


Broken Spirit - Part IV

by SonicoSenpai



Series: Broken Spirit [4]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler, Lamento -BEYOND THE VOID-
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Carthartic writing, Contracts, Deal with a Devil, Demons, Devils, Discipline, Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Spanking, Extremely Dubious Consent, Graphic Description, I have it out for Konoe, M/M, Masochism, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Non-Consensual, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Abuse, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, S&M, Sadism, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Violence, Slave Training, Spanking, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Training, Unrealistic Sex, Violence, dub-con, non-consensual restraints, therapeutic writing, unrealistic fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-05-08 06:14:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14688168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicoSenpai/pseuds/SonicoSenpai
Summary: Konoe didn’t escape those first bandits in the forest. They caught him and sold him to a strange place, where he now finds himself. Also, I’m not sure that Konoe is (literally) cursed in this fiction.Characters are not mine. They are from Lamento: Beyond the Void by Nitro+Chiral. BUT they may not act like they do in the game. I think some of them are going to be pretty mean in this fiction. So if you don’t like that kind of thing, (make sure you read my tags!! I didn’t just put them in for shits and giggles) maybe skip this piece.(Start with Part 1,2 + 3 of the series if you are new to this.)Chapter 1 begins with Konoe returned to Bardo’s inn to his master Rai, just having finished having his most recent wounds cleaned by Bardo.





	1. Chapter 1

Bardo and Rai let me rest on the cot in Bardo’s room as soon as the painful cleaning and the excruciating disinfection of the welts are finished. The potion made me feel slightly less aware, but I am exhausted and trembling once that torturous process is complete. My tail droops listlessly off the side of the cot, and I’m lying on my stomach with the skin exposed to the air for better healing. Rai wrapped my arms back in my sleeves, however, after seeing me tremble. I’m sure he thought I was cold. I haven’t told him that I just want the privilege of clothing. I’m too ashamed.

I was surprised by Rai’s reaction to that ordeal—he yelled at Bardo several times, interfering with the disinfection procedure when I couldn’t suppress my screams, barking at him to hurry it up, asking if all this was really necessary. Then Bardo surprised me even more: he hollered right back, and their heated exchange made my barely conscious ears flatten against my head and my tail fluff out, and I am now terribly weary from all of it. 

“I know what I’m doing! If you can’t handle it, step outside! You don’t want him to wind up with an infection later, dammit! You know better. What the hell’s the matter with you? Pull yourself together, for the little one’s sake!” I’m shocked to find the older striped cat stands up to Rai’s intimidating voice so easily, almost like his father. What exactly is their relationship? 

My tail quivers just remembering that exchange. As much as I’d hate to find myself between them again, I found Rai’s concern for me surprisingly comforting. I think my pain stoked his anger, however—it did _nothing_ to calm him down. In fact, once finished, Bardo suggested Rai get some fresh air for a change of pace and sit outside in the back for a while. Though he asked that he not go far, in case Verg or another devil should appear, looking for me.

My eyes finally drift closed. The exhaustion has taken a toll on my body over the past few days, and the constant stress has been extreme. I slept well this afternoon—the soundest I’ve slept in a long time. But before that, I can’t remember, and I don’t want to think about it.

Just as I shut my eyes completely, I hear a strange rustling from the window. A dark shadow barely flashes across my vision when I crack open my eyes. When I don’t hear any footsteps, I relax, thinking it must have been my blurry imagination or Bardo’s potion, but suddenly, something strokes my ears. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, my body is covered in a cold sweat,and I go into a panic. 

If I haven’t heard any footsteps, how has a cat been able to enter? A shiver runs through my body, and it cringes in horror at the realization of what must be in here with me—at what it is that is stroking my ears. The ears currently being stroked fold down flat against my head in terror. 

I hear a clicking sound, and it’s sickeningly familiar. My stomach makes an unpleasant turn, and fear freezes me in place as soon as recognition hits me. I can’t move, make a sound, or even breathe. I get very lightheaded from lack of oxygen. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought you’d learned this lesson by now. When your betters wish to stroke your soft ears, it’s your job to submit. It’s a simple concept. Don’t you remember that lesson? I realize you’re quite a slow learner, little one, but we’ve been over this many times. I hate when you treat me like a monster. Relax your ears.”

I feel another hand resting against my ass, which is currently bare and open to the air—freshly cleaned and disinfected, the welts on my skin sore and exposed. I flinch when I feel that cold hand resting there, gently yet threateningly. I feel utter disgust when my dick twitches at the touch, and nausea wells up.

I try my best to relax, but all I can think about is how I didn’t hear a single footstep against the hard floor, and I’m still spun up and anxious. And am I really feeling desire, or was that just my body remembering what he has done to me in the past? A leftover from Verg’s cruel treatment earlier this morning? I want to cry out, thinking Rai is probably within hearing, yet I cannot open my mouth. I am completely frozen.

“Oh, shush now. Don’t even think about it. I’d hate to get into a row with your current master when I’m only checking up on you. Don’t make a sound.” Then more sharply, “ _Relax your ears_.”

I manage to twitch them several times, but I fail to relax, only barely lifting them away from my head. And I also manage a desperate whisper.

“ _Please_ , I can’t. _Show mercy_. I am in pain from just having my skin disinfected—“

“Oh, I can see that. These welts look _terribly_ inflamed. These aren’t from your master, are they? It would probably sting if I smacked it, wouldn’t it? What an effective lesson that would be...”

“—and I didn’t hear your footsteps when you came in the room, and you startled me. My head is still fuzzy from a medicinal potion, and I can’t control my body...” I continue begging and pleading, tears stinging my eyes. Desperation is audible, even in my whispering tone. 

“You may want to bite down on your arm to prevent that beautiful voice from spilling, kitten,” the butler warns me in a neutral tone, continuing to talk over me, as though I hadn’t said anything at all. 

“Please—please, no!” I beg, still keeping quiet, but panic rising nonetheless. My body is shaking in fear, my tail quivering between my legs.

“Well, if you cry out, and your master comes, I may have to kill him. Is _that_ your preference?” His tone is cold and cruel, and I feel like I’m back on the estate in Ransen, helpless and alone. I _have_ to protect Rai—at all costs!

In an instant, I bite down my own arm. The moment I do, Sebastian’s hand, which is resting on my ass, flicks up a few inches and smacks my raw, welted skin. The movement is slight, but because my skin is already burning, the pain is _intense_.

“Hmmpf!” A muffled cry is all that escapes from my lips, though tears leak from the corners of my eyes. I squeeze my knees and thighs together, a hopeless sensation rising up in my chest. I’m still desperate to relax my ears, but I can’t do it. I flick them every which way and still can’t manage it.

His hand flicks, spanking me again, and I release the same muffled cry against my arm. My body stiffens, trying to escape the blow, but there is nowhere for me to go. A muffle plea falls from my mouth, but another smack comes down against my sore skin—and my thighs light up in pain, this time shooting down my legs. I feel like an admonished child, humiliated and helpless. And worse—I can feel his immense satisfaction from my helplessness flowing over my shoulder.

“I’d think _this_  intense pain would be quite a motivator for you to do as you’re told, kitten. What seems to be the problem?”

Again, the hand smacks my burning skin, and I let out that muffled cry. I want my master to come in, but this demon terrifies me, and he has me trapped.

“ _Please_ ,” I beg. “Isn’t there something I _can_ do for you instead?”

“There is, and I already told you what I want. I only want to pet your ears without feeling like a monster. Is it so much to ask?”

“ _Please_ —ah—mmmmmpf,” I bite myself as he smacks me once more, and I taste blood in my mouth as my fangs break the skin. “I just need a moment to relax and get myself together without pain. Please.”

“Little one, haven’t you realized it yet? Stop lying to yourself.” That low voice rumbles in my ear, sending a shudder through the core of my being. “You don’t need a minute. You _enjoy_ pain. It actually gives you pleasure. I was sure you’d realized this morning, but perhaps you’re not being entirely honest with yourself.” 

“What? _No_ ,” I protest. “That time, it was only because of the shocks Verg gave me”—but a quiet alarm rings in my head.

“Oh, no, it most certainly _wasn’t_ Verg. It most definitely was _you_.” The demon accents the word “you” with another slap to my broken skin.

“Hahmmmpf!” I half-cry out.

“You’d best keep quiet now. And _relax_ your ears for me.” 

I am really trying to relax, but when someone is spanking you, it’s hard to keep your ears—or _any_ part of you—relaxed. I haven’t figured out how to do this yet. I work and work and work at it, which is frankly the _opposite_ of relaxing.

“ _Please_ ,” I beg. “I am in too much pain. It hurts too much!” A sob breaks through my plea.

“ _Relax_ into the pain, just like you did for _Verg_ yesterday—and last night’s _entertainment_. You will do it for _him_ , but for me, you _refuse_?” His words make my skin crawl—was that just last night? Shame covers me like a heavy wet blanket.

Smack! “Hmmmpf! _Please_ —stop—I can’t—please”—

Smack! “Ammmpf!” I finally shut my mouth and hold tight to my arm with my teeth, and then I relax my jaw slightly, aware of the shameful state of my lower body.

Smack! Smack! Smack! “Gh”—

“There you go—you’re doing it—are you feeling it, too? It’s a turn-on for you, isn’t it? You _enjoy_ it, don’t you?”

Smack! “Ah!”

I don’t respond. I don’t speak. I want this demon to leave. He’s destroying my skin, as well as something deep within my heart. Why don’t I scream? I should call out to Rai and Bardo—they could probably overpower him. But then I remember Sebastian is 1000 years old, and I’m the one who got myself into this mess, so isn’t he my responsibility? But the real reason—if Rai walked in here now, and he noticed my current state, wouldn’t he be disgusted? Wouldn’t he wonder why I hadn’t called out in the first place? Do I enjoy this?

I feel his other hand stroking my ears gently, and they don’t twitch away from him. 

“There’s a good boy. I can hardly wait for you to stay with me full time in my world—you will experience pleasures like this every day, and I am anxious to teach you even more about your proclivity. You’ve only been gone for half a day and I miss you more than I can say. Won’t you come with me now?”

“No!” I nearly yell, forgetting myself, and I sit up suddenly.

I’m met with evil red eyes, and a hand grabs my hair, pulling it till I growl in pain.

“Keep your voice down, like I said,” the voice purrs. “But you seem to enjoy this as well, don’t you?” He has my head tilted up toward his face, so I don’t see his hand reaching down to grab my crotch—groping my half-hard dick. I desperately stifle a moan.

“I’m no longer under the Lord’s protection, and I no longer need yours. This temporary contract is void. I’ve returned to my master and am under his care. How do I cancel it?”

“That’s not something you can do, little one,” his voice continues smoothly, continuing his groping. “Cancelling a contract is only something I can do. And you’ll want to think about this carefully. I could still take you with me now, in fact.”

“No—you couldn’t. My master would hear, and so would Bardo. They are right outside.”

“Why did you bother keeping your voice down, then?” Sebastian asks. The grip on my cock suddenly tightens painfully, and I gasp.

I’m speechless. I don’t know how to answer. When he first entered the room, I was frozen with fear. I couldn’t move, or speak, or even scream. And then, I feared for Rai’s safety, and then—by that point, I was overcome with shame.

“I can tell you why you didn’t call out. It’s because you enjoy pain, as much as I enjoy giving it to you. I enjoy the feel of your ass against my hand, and your muffled cries, as well as the pain of your teeth biting against your arm. And this.” His hand crushes the head of my dick, almost tenderly—and I try not to make any noise, but when my body is played with like this, it will respond.

“What? _No_.” I’m sure that isn’t it. I’m _sure_ it isn’t. It _can’t_ be. And then I remember the pleasure and pain sensations that were confused just this morning, in the bedroom upstairs—because of Verg’s shocking me. But were they really? Verg wasn’t even there—and Rai wasn’t exactly gentle. What about that?

“Ah—I see, you’re only now starting to acknowledge this part of yourself, aren’t you? Tell me—that silver cat—was he your first? And he is rough with you as well, takes you as he likes?”

I’ve already forgotten that demons can read thoughts—especially thoughts so laced with emotions as turbulent as mine are right now, and he’s invaded my privacy—my precious alone-time with Rai—I’m furious! 

“With your _master_ , you mean. Never forget—he _owns_ you, little kitten. He _bought_ you. With _gold_. You’re his _slave_. His _sex slave_. His purpose for you is no different than how that pleasure demon uses you—which—oh yes. That reminds me of the real reason I am here.”

I growl. I _hate_ him. I try not to listen to his words, but they ring terribly true in my ears, making them droop sadly.

“Verg is quite upset with you. It seems he has had a change of heart about you since last night’s events. He quite likes seeing you come undone, it appears to me.”

A small stunned sound drops from my mouth. This could pose a serious threat, considering how Bardo left the devil of pleasure unconscious this morning.

“I have no _doubt_ he was angry about that, considering the rage he flew into this morning when he woke and found you gone. As you’re technically still under my protection—your master is, too, I’m sure you recall—I’d hate for Verg to do anything violent to my property, at least nothing I can’t recover you from. And from his rage this morning, I think he has it on his mind to collect you personally.”

“ _Collect_ me?” 

“Yes,” Sebastian confirms but explains nothing further.

“What do you mean by collect? To take me back to the Lord of Ransen’s, you mean?” I probe.

“No, I think he fully intends to take you with him to his world.”

“What? I haven’t made any deals with him—and I belong to another master—and what about my contract with you?” I can’t keep the fear out of my voice. A violent shiver runs through my body at the thought of an eternity with the devil of pleasure. I’d be more fortunate if he simply ate me, swallowing me from head to toe.

“Oh, that devil is not a stickler for details. In fact, I’ve heard he’s recruited help, in his anger.”

“ _Help_? What kind of help would he need?” Another shiver runs through my body. I’m just a cat, and a small one, who couldn’t even outrun bandits. He’s a _devil_.

“I haven’t met him, and it’s just a rumor. Some devil of wrath, I’ve heard. I just thought I’d inform you, to keep you on your toes, and again, offer you a place of safety. Perhaps—I might consider allowing your current master to come along with you to my world. On _my_ terms, of course.” 

Revulsion crawls over my body, and I shove it down. I take a deep breath, relaxing my ears. Instead, I push my nose into Sebastian’s shoulder. It’s a sign of friendship between Ribika. The demon’s eyes widen in surprise at the intimate gesture, and his face softens. He is pleased. His hands reach out to stroke my ears once again.

“I thank you for the information and your kind offer. I’m not in a position to accept or decline, but I will pass it along. He has already learned of our agreement. _Unless_ ”—I glance up under my eyelashes, “you’d prefer to pass your offer along to my master yourself? I can fetch him for you. He is here now.”

I watch him consider, but he ends up declining, escaping out the small kitchen window. I’d have a hard time squeezing in through that window, and he’s _much_ larger than I am. No wonder his presence startled me so much. 

Bardo’s potion has worn off me, and my ass is _killing_ me. I’m left sitting up on the cot, my yukata hastily pulled back down to cover myself. Now, I have to find Rai, to warn him about Verg and his new ally, this devil of wrath. I try standing up, and my knees don’t hold my weight, and I fall to the floor. 

I manage to grab a shelf on the way down, hoping to steady myself, but it has the opposite effect. Instead, the shelf I’ve grabbed is full of books, and it leans precariously to the side with the addition of my weight, and the books slide off, one right after the other. I manage to catch the first two in my hands, but then I hit the floor, landing loudly on my ass, and the books keep coming, piling up on top of me. The first several don’t make much noise since I catch them in my hands, but the next few end up crashing rather heavily to the floor.

The noise is loud enough to get Bardo’s attention, and he hurries in the room, finding me buried in his personal library.

“Oy, Konoe! What are you doing out of bed? Those drugs shouldn’t have worn off yet. Do you need something? Ah—what a mess! Are you okay? What the hell? Did you fall?” 

“Rai—I need Rai!” I’m sure the panic is showing in my eyes, but I don’t worry about it.

“Calm yourself, here—let me help you.” He picks the books off of me, and then scoops me off the ground, carrying me easily out of the room.

Rai is outside, behind the inn, caring for his swords. He looks up immediately, however, when Bardo comes outside—not when the door swings open, but when he recognizes my scent.

“What’s wrong?” He stands up from the bench but sits down as soon as Bardo places me next to him. Bardo turns back to the door and stops in his tracks when he hears my words. 

“I had a visitor.” Sighing deeply, I just blurt it out.

“What? When?” Rai looks at me sharply. 

“Just now. It was Sebastian, the demon butler.” I’m filled with relief just being close to Rai again, and I scoot even nearer to him on the bench, and Rai notices my movements. He puts his sword down and pulls me into his lap. Instantly, I feel soothed, especially with his hands stroking my back. He doesn’t care that I flinch now and then, or that my ears flick uncontrollably—he ignores it. I feel a nip on the tip of my ear, and he speaks softly to me. 

“Can you tell me what he wanted?” And in a whisper, “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“I’m all right,” I say bravely, but I hear a quiet growl in my ear. “First, he said he came to check on me. Second, since you and I are both under his protection, he warned me about Verg—the devil of pleasure. He’s angry, after me, and is looking to bring me to his world.”

“What’s this? But you don’t have any contract with him, do you?” Rai’s voice registers surprise.

“No, I don’t. Apparently, during last night’s encounter, he became rather—interested in me,” I’m embarrassed to say it.

“Interested how?” Rai asks, suspiciously. 

Bardo nods his head. “I thought as much,” he pipes up. “I didn’t think you’d need to know the sordid details, but he was really getting off on whipping and shocking the shit out of Konoe when I walked in on them this morning. If I hadn’t shown up when I had, Verg would have fucked him beyond recognition. That guy—his eyes were filled with some otherworldly obsession for this little companion of yours.” 

“He’s found an ally, I guess,” I add. “It’s a rumor. A devil of wrath, Sebastian said. I haven’t met him.” My skin crawls suddenly when a memory surfaces—a memory of fire? Wait a second. “Wasn’t there the devil of wrath in that play we saw during Antou??” I can’t keep the horror out of my voice. He was the most terrifying of them all!

“Konoe, we won’t know till we meet him,” Rai assures me, stroking my ears, trying to get me to stop shaking. “I won’t leave you on your own again. I’m so sorry.”

“Um, also,” I swallow thickly, afraid to continue. “The butler invited me to avoid all this trouble by coming to his world, and he extended his invitation to you.”

Rai’s hand stops moving for a moment. I am afraid to breathe, afraid he’s angry. But soon his hand moves again, and I exhale slowly. 

“I hope you refused,” Rai’s voice is calm, seemingly unchanged.

“I did, as kindly as I could.”

“Kindly? Why? And why didn’t you call out to me?”

I was afraid he might ask, and I turn my head to face his chest, ashamed, but I open my mouth just the same.

“At first, I was frozen in fear. He came in through the window, making no sounds in the floor. I simply suddenly felt hands stroking my ears, and I was petrified. Then, he told me he would fight with you if I made a single sound, and so I kept quiet out of fear for your safety. I remembered”—swallowing my tears, I continue, “I remembered his cruel treatment on the estate, and how much he enjoys violence. By the time I could think and move my mouth, I was too ashamed to call for you.”

“Ashamed?” Rai’s voice takes on a slight edge. “Why were you ashamed?”

“I knew I should have fought him off, tried to call for you, and I just couldn’t move!” I can barely hold my tears back now. “He intimidated me, playing a game he did on the estate and it felt like I was back there. I felt so helpless!” 

Rai grabs my shoulders almost roughly, pulling me away from the comfort of his chest, looking me in the eye. “What did he do?”

“He wanted to stroke my ears,” and I’m openly sobbing now, tears flowing freely. I’m terribly ashamed, and I don’t want to tell him. I feel even more like a scolded child.

Bardo interrupts me. “Rai, he’s obviously upset...”

“Shut up!” He snarls at Bardo. “Go on. He wanted to stroke your ears,” and Rai puts his hands on my ears, stroking them gently. His snarling frightened me, so my ears are flat against my head, but he keeps it up just the same.

“And he says he hates to be treated like a m-monster. He was going to teach me to relax my ears when my b-betters want to enjoy stroking them.”

“Because you’d flattened them against your head?” Rai is flabbergasted. “It’s only natural if you were afraid. That can’t be helped, can it?”

“Well, he thinks I should be able to relax. And he b-beats me till I obey,” I look down shamefully.

“Gods,” Bardo exclaims.

Rai is quiet for a moment. “Isn’t beating you counterproductive?”

“Well, yes, but he says—he says—he says I enjoy pain,” I say that last part very, very quietly, only loud enough for Rai to hear. “It still doesn’t work, until I’m exhausted.”

Taking my chin in his hand, Rai asks, “Why didn’t I hear you crying out?”

I can’t meet his eyes. Instead, I raise the sleeve on my yukata. My own teeth broke the skin on my forearm, where I bit myself in order to keep quiet. I’m so ashamed, and blood rushes to my face. It looks like I’ve been attacked by wild dogs.

Rai drops my chin and takes my arm in both of his hands. He tries to meet my eyes, but I won’t look at him. I keep my eyes on my arm—it looks terrible. To my shock, I watch Rai lower his mouth onto my arm, kissing it gently, then licking it, as though tending to a wound of his own.

In between strokes, Rai’s low voice murmurs, “I understand your inexperience. I understand you may be somewhat naturally reserved. However, I want to know that no matter _what_ situation you find yourself—even if it is of your own making—and this one was _not_ of your own making, Konoe—I will _never_ judge you. I will _always_ be on your side. I will always _come_  for you. You are _my_ responsibility and my precious _companion_.

“Now, _promise_ me. Unless you want to experience this sort of pain for your own personal gratification, don’t _ever_ do anything like this again. _Call for me_ , as soon as you are able. No hesitation.”

His large strong hand takes my chin almost roughly, meeting my gaze.

“ _Promise me._ ” 

Through my tears, I nod, and say, “I will try,” and let out a sigh.

My sigh is interrupted, however, when my neck is roughly craned upward once again to meet his gaze. 

“That’s _not_ good enough. I want you to _promise me,_ Konoe. I want _none_ of this half-hearted commitment from you. This is a _requirement,_ one of the few requirements I have of you as my companion.  _Do you understand me?_ ”

“I’m sorry,” I say immediately, swallowing the tears stuck in my throat. “I understand, and I promise.”

He continues licking me a few more times, and then I hear a rumbling in his body. When Rai growls, it doesn’t only come from his throat. It feels like it comes from comes from his entire being. It’s rather frightening.

“That damned butler needs to be taken care of—but he may be an ally against Verg, and at least he’s an informant,” Rai’s tail thumps impatiently on the bench. “I want to burn that entire estate to the ground.”

“Brash cats die young,” Bardo comments. “Try not to do anything without thinking.”

Rai growls a little louder in response. Suddenly, he looks at me. “You, you need rest. Come.”

He stands up, scooping me up, and I wince when his hands touch my ass. I haven’t told him the details about the beating. I should be fine if I rest, so I relax in his arms as he carries me back upstairs to our room. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once Rai gets Konoe back up to the bedroom, he discovers further physical damage Sebastian has inflicted on his companion.
> 
> Konoe is suffering from angst in his current role as a companion, overcome with helplessness. He manages to confront Rai, letting him know that being a companion was not his first choice. The response doesn't go quite as he expects.

Rai settles me on the bed—lying face down—once we get upstairs. Almost at once, he unties my obi and starts to remove my clothing.  I resist.

“What’s this,” the not-questioning voice asks. “Is it because you met the demon again. Your body must heal—the open air is best, and we are alone here."

I hug the yukata closed against my chest, reluctant to let him see my backside, afraid of his reaction—but I really don’t know if my skin is still swollen. It sure feels swollen and red from where Sebastian spanked me so soundly, especially because it was already sensitive from the disinfection process.

“Bardo said you shouldn’t even have fabric touching your skin right now,” Rai says. “Open air will be best for healing. This is nothing to be shy about.”

Pulling me into his lap, on my knees, my face downturned, he murmurs into my ear.

“Or, if you prefer, I could lick it for you.” A small gasp comes out of my mouth at his suggestion. “That would also be an efficient way to speed the healing process. Your skin is especially tender after the use of that disinfectant, so I’m sure my saliva would soothe you.”

I feel his hands on my back, rubbing me gently, and then he gently moves me away from his chest, just far enough so I can look at him or not as I choose.

“Konoe, I don’t wish to make you uncomfortable, but this is a matter of your health. I am going to expose your skin to the air within the next few minutes, whether you wish it or not. I think it would be best for you if you decided to submit so I don’t have to force you. I don’t want to risk an infection. I’m a little confused by your shyness right now. I won’t _do_ anything to you—unless you’d _like_ me to, that is.”

“ _No_ —I don’t”—I respond, a little too strongly.

“Don’t you want me to lick you?” I look at his face, and I detect the corners of his lips curving upwards just a tiny bit. Is he teasing me? “It will speed the healing process, and I don’t mind. It's really no trouble.”

With those words, he reaches out and grabs me with strong arms, pulling me toward him. I lose my sense of orientation when he flips me over to my stomach—not even letting me touch the bed—and removing my robe at the same time. It’s impressive. I end up not quite on all fours—my ass in the air, bare and presented nicely, my chest pressed against the bed and my arms out to my sides. My head is turned to one side, and my tail lashes violently from side to side but not to escape his hold.

There's a sharp intake of breath from behind me. Then I feel a soft touch of his hand against the raw skin. It’s such a soft touch—only a finger, followed by several fingertips. My thighs quiver slightly. Am I afraid? I close my eyes.

“Earlier,” his soft voice starts, speaking very low, in almost a growl. “Earlier, you mentioned this ‘game’ the demon butler played with you. You said he was 'training' you to relax your ears when you were afraid.”

He’s noticed the sorry shape my skin is in, and I know what he’s going to ask next. I quietly murmur, “Uh, hm?”

“When you couldn’t get your ears to relax, you said he beat you until you did relax. He hit you today.”

In a timid voice, I confirm, “Yes.”

“Here.” His fingertips brush my inflamed skin, tenderly.

Holding back tears, I answer, “Yes.”

“He used his hand.”

“Yes.” My voice is even quieter. I’m so ashamed—why didn't I _call_  for help?

“Because your skin was conveniently exposed after having been treated—after Bardo cleaned and disinfected you,” Rai continues. His voice doesn’t sound right. It sounds laced with guilt, but that can't be right.

“Mmm,” I murmur in assent. It’s all I can do to keep myself together.

“I’m so sorry, kitten,” it’s whispered in my ear. “I should _never_ have left you alone.” Then, against my ear, I feel a warm, wet touch—gently stroking me. It’s his tongue. At first, his touch is desperate, but as he repeats the same motion, licking once, twice, three times over, it becomes hypnotic, rhythmic, losing its sense of urgency. Instead, I feel soothed and cared for, but most of all I feel loved and safe—like I belong. The grooming calms my breathing and brings my heart rate down to normal.

Although he starts with my ears and hair, he then moves down the nape of my neck while I lie on my stomach, curled up with my legs beneath me. My neck isn’t an area I usually groom as I can’t reach it. I shiver and shudder when he licks me there—goosebumps cover my skin—but I allow him to continue. I _have_ to allow him to continue: he’s much larger than me, after all, and even if I wanted to struggle against him, I couldn't escape.

He moves lower, grooming my shoulders and back, which he skims lightly, till he reaches my waist. Another shiver runs through my body when his tongue dips into the curve there, around my sides, and I wiggle a little, but try to remain still. He holds me in place easily, however, ignoring my activity and moves his mouth lower still—down to my welted and swollen skin.

His tongue has felt warm against me so far—melting against the surface of my skin, which is covered in sweat and exposed to the chill of the evening breeze. But my injured skin is still burning to the touch. I am afraid of how it will feel—until his tongue bathes that skin gently. It feels almost cool and is strangely soothing. I was afraid it would hurt having anything else touch me there. I couldn’t stand the thought of having _anything_ else touch me a few moments ago—I’ve been overly stimulated today.

My mind wanders, swept away by memories of the crazy events earlier in the day—Verg forcing my body against the bed at the Lord of Ransen’s estate—the harsh sting of the crop against the tender skin of my ass and thighs—but mostly, those electrical shocks coursing through my body. I _hated_ them—I think—at least I think I hated the feeling—but part of me _loved_ it, more than I'd like to admit. When he grabbed my groin and shocked me, I remember _begging_ him with all my might— _begging_ him to fuck me—begging him for _release_. I feel such shame when I remember—when Bardo walked in, what must he have thought when he saw me in such a state of indecency?

I know now that he didn’t tell Rai about it. Should _I_ tell him? I wonder—is _that_ why Verg is obsessed with me? Was it my _response_ to him? It frightens me. Is it _my_ fault? Nothing good comes from me hiding things from Rai, and after all, he _owns_ me—

And my heart feels like it’s going to stop at that thought. He _does_ own me. He paid for me, in gold. And if what Sebastian and Verg said was true, that Rai saw me, even before the auction—when I was at my worst, after I had been punished and was exhausted from the caning, sleeping it off in the cages at that horrible warehouse. 

As I feel his tongue gliding against my flesh, I wonder—what does this cat _really_ want from me? Does he see me as an object? Am I simply a _possession_ to him?

An immense feeling of frustration builds in my chest when I remember my longing for him when I was held captive. I remember that yearning—and it was _real_. And now he’s here—I’m together with him again, only to have all these doubts swirling in my head and in my heart.

 _What am I_ to this cat? What does he want with me?

A fang skates across my broken skin—very gently—but it’s a _fang_. What the hell? I freeze, and my tail stops its lashing. I realize my tail has been lashing back and forth,  unmistakably showing my frustration.

Shit.

I am not very good at hiding my emotions. Tears burn the corners of my eyes. What am I supposed to do? What does he _want_ me to do? What _can_ I do, except for being myself? Why is this so hard?

I don’t _want_ to be a sex slave! I didn’t _ask_ for this! I didn’t want to be a _companion_ —I didn’t want to be _purchased_! I didn’t _ask_ for this. I didn’t want to be _captured_ by bandits and _sold_ at auction—and all because the elder in my village has a secret taste for the flesh of fellow Ribika?! What the hell? 

Anger courses through my body and I can’t restrain myself. An uncontrollable low growl rumbles in my throat. I bare fangs and draw claws, holding my position on the bed. I keep my head down on the mattress. I refuse to cry about this— _I will not cry._

I escaped my fate as the next village sacrifice only be to captured and enslaved as a companion. And yes, Rai may be my owner, but I didn’t ask for that either. I also didn’t ask for the horrible abuse at the hands of the Lord of Ransen, his guests, the devil of pleasure, or the demon butler. I shiver thinking of the details, trying to push it out of my mind, but I know Rai feels that shiver passing over my skin.

He has stopped grooming me, yet I still feel his presence behind me. I continue my low growling.

I do _not_ want to be here. I’m angry, but I don’t know my options. What can I _do_?

I could fight my current owner, but he seems to like me well enough. I don’t know what he would do if I rebelled. His reputation precedes him, and that in itself frightens me enough to keep me in line, but I still cannot seem to get a grip on my current fury. 

And that butler demon—coming after me _again_ —frightened me so much that I froze, unable to protect myself. I got myself into a situation where I allowed the _same_ abuse a second time! Am I conditioned for his abuse? Has he  _trained_  me to respond to him like this? If he shows up again, will I cower in fear so helplessly, and will he punish me so severely?

My growl increases in volume and ferocity— _I don’t want this!_ Why didn’t I call out for help? Why didn’t I fight him off? Why couldn't I fight?

My breath suddenly hitches—it's a loud, obvious sob—and my words pour out at once, over the sound of my growling.

“Why didn’t I fight him off? Why didn’t I call out? You were just outside the window! You would have come for me if I’d called, wouldn’t you?” My voice breaks at the last two words, becoming unintelligible. My chest heaves violently, and I dissolve into tears, stubbornly not moving from where I am planted.

Through my weeping, I continue, “If he comes again, will I be forced to suffer through more abuse? Am I conditioned to cower before him, every time I see him? I couldn’t do _anything_! I couldn’t _move_ , I couldn’t call _out_ , I couldn’t even _breathe_! What is wrong with me? _I don’t want this_!”

Frustrated tears fall down my face, and my body is wracked by sobs. Rai’s presence moves behind me now. He drapes his body over top of my own, and his silver hair appears in my vision. It shimmers in the light of the evening, but I don’t _want_ it! It cascades over my shoulders, across my neck, and over my back as I feel him press his chest against my back. He lays his body across mine in a heavy embrace. His familiar scent engulfs me along with the comforting weight of his body, and he smells so good.

His arms cross in front of my chest, even as I try to push him away. I don’t _want_ his touch! I don’t _want_ to be a companion—I am my _own_ cat—I don’t want to be _owned_.

“No”—I try to push him away, but he ignores my efforts, nearly crushing me with his weight. And that scent—it’s overwhelming, comforting, despite my resistance. I don’t _want_ it. I don’t _want_  to be comforted. I’m afraid I might say something I regret if he doesn’t stop!

When I feel one of his hands press against my chest—flattening over my racing heart—I finally have had enough. 

“ _No_ —stop—let _go_ of me!” I shout. “I don’t _want_ this! I don’t want to _be_ a companion! I just want to be my _own_ cat!”

I’m still crying, the tears falling earnestly from my eyes. It feels like a dam has burst, and dangerously, words start flowing from my mouth like a river.

“There _is_ no food shortage in Karou—I learned that from the demon butler. There is an arrangement between the village elder and the bandits who sell companions. Ever since the time of the Void, some members of my village have enjoyed the taste of their fellow Ribika and continue to enjoy it with the help of those companion traders. I was caught up in their web of lies and suffered just trying to make ends meet—suffered at their hands because of their greed. Karou is the perfect village for companions, because of our breed’s unusual compact stature. I didn’t know that there _wasn’t_ a food shortage throughout the rest of Sisa.”

I take a quick breath and think of my friend Tokino.

“I had a chance—many chances—to escape, with the son of a merchant, a friend who lives here in Ransen. I didn’t know he was risking his life to help me. Yet several times, he urged me to leave Karou, always at night, always quietly. But I always refused, not wanting to be a burden on him or his family. I was too caught up in my own day-to-day survival to do any research into the world around me, to understand why the merchants didn’t bring in food. I assumed it was a nation-wide shortage. Now that I think of it, of course, it was strange what they brought in to sell. It was strange no one was permitted to leave our village. It was strange no one returned if they _did_ leave. I should have known better. I should have _known_ I was being brought up either for someone’s _meal_ or someone’s _companion_! I hate this! I hate this! _I hate this!_ ”

I am yelling now, my body shaking with rage. Rai is holding my trembling frame, stroking me, trying to comfort me and calm me down, but he doesn’t say anything.

I’m just getting angrier and angrier. He _purchased_ me—he used _gold_ to buy me. And why? Just to _fuck_ me? To have someone to fuck when he was in the mood? And when he isn't, leave me in a crazy household to be tortured and fucked till I can't even  _stand_? _I don’t want this!_

“And _you_ , you—you _purchased_ me!”

I spit out the words, but that’s as much as I dare to say. I’m still curled up in the same position on the bed, but I feel the urge to see his face. I want to see my "master’s" face. What does the cat who _buys_ another cat look like?

I stretch out my legs and turn around, which still keeps me pinned beneath Rai’s much larger body, but I’m able to squirm around easily enough. Well, it's probably because he _allows_ my movement. That silver hair frames his face beautifully—and he looks… _elegant_. Refined. For a moment, I can’t speak. He looks dignified and majestic. I am afraid of what might come out of my mouth next. I swallow my words as his cool blue eye examines me, and I feel his hand on my chin.

“I _did_ purchase you. I used most of my gold to do it. In fact, your price was _exorbitant_ , more than any companion had sold for in the history of the trade. So what?”

“I”—I start, and I realize I cannot. So I try again, clearing my voice, and swallowing the excess saliva that has pooled in my mouth after staring at him from such close range. It irritates me that he has this effect on me. “I do not _wish_ to be a companion.” A short moment passes, in which I feel him looking at me briefly, and during which he backs up just a little—enough to examine my body from a short distance, looking at me appraisingly under long lashes. Even that appraising glance sends a flash of heat racing through my body. Then he opens his mouth.

“I’ll ask you again. _So what?_ ”

“Wh-what?” I’m shocked. I don't understand what he means.

“Isn't that to be expected? It was _my_ gold. _So what_ if you don’t wish to be my companion? It doesn’t really matter to me either way. I can work with you whether you want to be my companion or not.” His voice is calm, soft, and almost tender when he speaks. He isn’t being confrontational, simply stating the facts as he sees them.

“What do you mean? I’m saying I don’t _want_ to be here. I don’t want to be _with you_.”

“I hear you. _So what?_  I said that’s to be expected. I understand. Slaves usually don’t want to be in the situation they find themselves. I expected as much from _you_.” I feel his hand run along the entire length of my body, however, which feels strangely incongruous with his words. It's almost as though he is trying to make a point. I might _say_ I don't want to be here, yes. But if that is true, why does my body respond like this? Another little shiver runs through me, like electricity.

“It doesn’t even _matter_ to you that I don’t _want_ to be here? That I don’t _want_ to be your companion?” My voice is taking on a somewhat desperate tone.  _What am I_ to this cat, anyway? Am I just an _object_? Doesn’t he _care_ about me?

“Should it? Your job is to _submit_ to me—it’s what you will learn to do as a companion. Of course, you may not be able to do it perfectly right away. It may take time, and I have the time to teach you, to train you. But you have great promise. I’ve seen it.” He stops speaking for a moment, observing me with a curious expression on his face.

I consider his words. _Submit_? Is it my job to submit? That is what both Sebastian and Verg said, also. He _does_ think of me as _less_ than a cat. He doesn't _see_ _me_. The rage boils up in my chest once again, but more than that—I feel _heartbreak_. Why? Why does my _heart_ hurt like this? Fresh tears fill my eyes quite suddenly, and my chest aches terribly—and I feel devastation like I’ve never felt before. Why do I feel this way? Why can’t I just feel angry? Anger would be easier, and much less painful! However, most of my anger has dissipated, dissolving into feelings of misery, loneliness, and anguish.

Much to my surprise, and to my complete shame, tears well up and spill down my cheeks, right before his eyes. I try to cover my face and turn away, but I am helpless to stop them. The rage I was feeling only moments ago has converted to despair and desolation. When I lift my hands up to cover my face, Rai stops my hands.

“What is this—more tears? What’s with that look on your face—where is that anger. What is this,” his low voice doesn’t quite ask. In a kind, gentle voice, he almost whispers, “I’ve never seen such a look—you make me feel as though I’ve done something unforgivable.”

He gathers me in his arms, stroking my ears and hair gently, and then whispers again.

“Do you _really_ wish I’d left you in the auction house, to let another buyer snap you up?”

I let out a small noise in protest— _that isn’t it at all!_ But how can I explain what I mean? I can’t simply tell him what I’m feeling. It’s too painful! My heart is breaking. I don’t want this!

“Perhaps after spending time with the Lord of Ransen, you wish you’d been purchased by _him_ instead—as one of his many sex slaves—so you could be the center of attention every evening, at least till he grows tired of you. Or, perhaps the brothel owner I bid against? You could serve many partners each night, and then _him_ , after the end of each night's work. You'd be filling his pockets with gold.”

I feel his hand on my chin, and he tips my face up toward his. There’s a heat reflecting in his eye—a definite warmth and passion there. It makes me feel a little breathless—almost drunk.

“Or perhaps a devil—maybe you wish I’d left you to be caught up in the arms of either the devil of pleasure, who is pursuing you now or else that bastard demon butler, both of whom you’ve bewitched, both now currently _obsessed_ with you. Leaving their worlds, in which they hold ultimate power, they seek you out. Do you realize the significance for _two_ devils to be after you, little one? I’m curious, really, how  _exactly_  did you beguile them?”

He brushes my bangs off my forehead, peering closely into my eyes before he continues.

“I want you to _do it to me_.” A tiny noise escapes—it’s indecent-sounding—but he ever-so-gently squeezes my tender ass when he says these words, and I find myself entranced. “I want to know what you did, and I want _you_ to beguile  _me_ in the same way.” His hands stroke my skin so gently. It reminds me of how he seemed to enchant me the first time we were together.

“I think I have an idea of what you did. It’s probably along the lines of what you did to me when we first met, since your charms work on us all, Konoe.” 

The tone of his voice—it doesn’t _sound_ like he doesn’t care about me. Looking at him now, it’s different from what I expected. It isn’t that he doesn’t _care_ about my desires. It’s almost as if…

“I don’t _care_ what you want. Your job, as my companion, is to _meet my desires_. You _will_ satisfy me. As your master, I have confidence that I can make you crave this: you will desire me, ache for me, beg for my touch, in time. In fact, despite your protestations, despite your insistence that you _don’t_ want to be here even now, your body betrays you. The sounds from your lips betray you.”

At the sound of these words, another wave of heat surges through my body—heat that won't be denied. Blood flows into my lower half, and I feel myself sweating. He’s right—sighs slip from my lips—one right after the next. I can’t help them, I can’t stifle them—but his touch is provoking me. He’s stroking my chest, reminding me of previous encounters, enticing me with imagined pleasures yet to come.

“Already, your desire betrays you. It’s not only desire, Konoe, what you're feeling—it’s desire _for me_. You’re feeling desire for my touch. I’m sure you realize you crave my touch.”

He’s right. I drop my eyes—unable to meet his gaze. I’m ashamed to be exposed like this, however, especially after my earlier harsh words.

“I recognize you don’t wish to be captive. However, as your owner, I will satisfy the desires of your body; and I suspect, as those desires will form in your heart over time, I will satisfy them as well. My desire is to _master_ you—completely— _I_ will be the one who protects you, keeps you safe, holds your body safe from harm from this world. And…”

He leans down to softly kiss my lips, tenderly, gently, and with greater affection than I’ve yet experienced from him.

“I want your _heart_ , too. It’s a _requirement_. I will give you time, but I do  _require_ it—as my companion. It will satisfy me. And as my companion, it’s your job to satisfy me, is it not.”

His rumbling, purring voice and confident words take my breath away. Isn’t _this_ what I've been longing for? Isn't _this_ what I crave? Isn't this what my heart desires? The strain on my chest loosens—the pain I felt earlier, the pain that converted my rage to devastation—like a new blossom under spring rain, my heart opens itself once again, gently and softly, and it timidly reaches out toward the sun, this beautiful silver cat before me.

_He is my owner._

_He is my master._

_He is the cat who purchased me with gold._

A shiver runs through my body as those phrases spiral through my brain. In Karou, I was destined for either this life or as a sacrifice for the villagers’ stomachs. In a sense—isn't this—isn't  _he_ —my salvation?

That silver hair—it certainly sparkles like salvation in my eyes. 

I realize I would never have survived in Karou. And if I had run away with Tokino, I would have put his life at risk. Running from Karou _alone_ was my only option. I wasn’t born with a better sense of direction, so in a way, _this_ life—the life of a companion—was my destiny. I wonder, is this lack of direction inherent in cats descended from Karou? If so, we really _do_ make ideal companions, since we can't run far.

Am I a masochist? Both demons suggested I enjoy pain, and perhaps there is a small truth in that. If there is—if I enjoy pain—being with a cat who does not care what I want might be a good thing in the end. Rai said several things this evening:

  1. He desires _me_ for his slave (I’m just going to call it like I see it: I'm a slave, not companion). He wants _me_. He used most of his gold to make his purchase, in fact.
  2. He cares most about his satisfaction, and he purchased me to satisfy his desires.
  3. What I want is _irrelevant_. It doesn’t factor into the equation of the master/slave relationship.
  4. He expects me to resist. He expects some resistance to him, to the relationship, to being a slave. He has planned for it.
  5. He also expects me to submit, at least eventually, even if I initially resist. He purchased me because he saw I had submissive traits. In fact, even _I_  acknowledge this willingness to please and submit to him—it’s an eagerness in my heart.
  6. Despite my words, he is glad he bought me. Despite my resistance and tears, he is glad to have me by his side.
  7. He feels bewitched by me. I think he is attracted to me—something more than lust—I think he _feels_ something for me. He is curious about the others pursuing me. I will eventually have to share what went on between us, I suppose.



I feel a sudden hard grip in my hair—Rai is pulling it, and it hurts. An utterance of pain escapes my lips, especially since the sensation is so abrupt.

“I expect an answer from you, kitten,” a low voice rumbles in my ear. “Are you lost in your thoughts?”

“Ah—yes—I’m sorry—ah—that hurts!—I will answer—I just forgot the question. I’m so sorry!” I beg his apology. “What was it, again?”

“I just told you I required your heart,” the hand in my hair tilts my face to meet his gaze firmly before continuing. “I will allow you time, of course, but as my companion, it’s your job to submit. It’s your job to satisfy me, isn’t it? I'd like you to acknowledge this.” 

“Oh, yes, of course,” I agree quickly.

“Do I already have it?” the low voice purrs seductively into my ears, “Or are you waiting for a special occasion?”

I’m stumped by his question, and I’m a little afraid to disappoint him, afraid to admit that once again I don’t understand what he is asking. My voice stammers nervously, especially after his latest almost violent touch. 

“I must be waiting for a special occasion. But I confess— I don't understand, what are you referring to, again?” I almost cringe when I have to ask.

I hear a small growl from his throat and he attacks me with an aggressive kiss—not giving me a chance to breathe or even inhale before taking my lips. He pulls me into a firm embrace by the shoulders and then wraps his arm around my back, making me feel secure—even trapped—in his arms. He runs his tongue over my lips before invading my mouth with his tongue.

I moan into his mouth in surprise—and with shocking fervor. I can’t help it—I _love_ being kissed by him. He knows what he’s doing, and he takes me with just the right amount of passion and violence—stepping right up to the line of fear without actually crossing it. Although this time—he gets quite close. I confess his growling during the kiss frightens me just a little, but when his arms tighten around my body, pulling me in and holding me close, it is just enough to soothe me.

When he pulls my lips away, my eyes are dazed, and my lips are swollen. He has just a touch of a smile on his lips when he finally answers my question. “I am referring to your _heart_ , you stupid cat!”

I cringe a little from his tone—but I realize he isn't being harsh. Because he’s holding me so gently in his arms, stroking me even as he says those words, I realize he doesn’t intend them as an insult. They aren’t meant cruelly—in fact, he means them in a teasing manner. My heart skips a beat. Oh! He is asking if he already _has_  my heart.

I’m suddenly shy at his question, especially after that rough kiss, and I try to squirm out of his arms, failing miserably.

“Satisfy me, little one. Even if you don’t _wish_ to do it, even if you don’t want to be here, that’s not my concern. It’s your _job_ now. It’s your calling. You’re here to satisfy me—to satisfy my heart.”

That voice is so low—so seductive. I am captivated by him. Why? Of course, he’s attractive. From his words alone, he sounds arrogant and selfish as well. What he professes is that he’s most concerned with his _own_ satisfaction—but what he wants from me is what _I_ have been longing for most of all, what I sensed when I first met him, what I yearned for when I was alone and struggling at the Lord of Ransen’s estate. It shocks me, sending delightful shivers to the core of my being.

“You’re not so angry anymore,” he purrs directly into my ear. “You are my precious companion, and I have no other concerns except for yours. Your role is to satisfy the desires of my body, as well as the desires of my heart. In return, I’ll protect this lithe body of yours, and as much as you allow, your heart. That’s what I paid for—it is a simple exchange. Don’t you agree.”

The sentence ends in a not-question, and there’s no choice except for me to agree. Instead of words, I simply hum in assent.

My heart is overwhelmed by a sense of peace and well-being that is hard to describe, but it washes over me from my ears to the tip of my tail. Starting deep within my ears, deep within the one in which he’s just been murmuring these secrets, the feeling rolls down my back like a shiver, relaxing me as it moves across my body. My fur stands on end for a moment; Rai lightly grasps my tail as the feeling moves down its length, stroking the fur gently, observing its slow bristling response, as though he enjoys watching my reaction. 

I take a deep breath, allowing myself to be pulled in close. Again, the unpleasant phrases flow through my brain:

_He owns me._

_He is my master._  

_He purchased me with gold._

Even still, a chill goes through my body at the thought of the word “owner,” and I still dislike it. I repress a small growl at the thought—I’m a little too late, however, and a quiet sound leaks out of my mouth before I can stop it.

“Master.” I realize I’ve said the word aloud only after it rings in my ears. Is it a better word than “owner”? For some reason, it sounds that way. I prefer it. But _perhaps_ —perhaps I can fool myself. Perhaps if I _choose_ this cat as my master, I will feel that I have more control over my life than I actually do.

“Is _that_ what you wish to call me,” a low voice rumbles in Rai’s chest, vibrating the bones in my body. He isn’t really asking, but making a statement. “If you like, you may, although I prefer Rai. I love hearing my name from this mouth.” A finger brushes my bottom lip.

My ear is once again soundly licked—Rai loves licking my ears. Every time they are within range, he licks them—grooming them, teasing them, nipping them, whispering in them and then following the whisper with his tongue. My shoulders tremble just thinking about it.

I sigh deeply, relaxing my body, and I say one word. It’s an acknowledgment of defeat, an acknowledgment of submission, and honestly, a very _subtle_ acknowledgment that he already holds my heart.

“Rai.”

A fluffy white tail sweeps across my vision in a wide, happy arc, strangely giving away his joy in response to my utterance and another wave of heat blazes through my body. His face holds the hint of a smile, that sparkling ice blue eye watching me carefully, the corners of his lips softly pulled upward, and his fangs peek out just a tiny bit.

I lift my head off the mattress, just enough so I can reach his lips with my tongue. I lick the fangs peeking out from his lips—touching their sharp tips with my tongue. I flash back to an earlier memory—our first night together—his hand on my jaw, his demanding tone to open my mouth, and how his command made me shiver with desire. Really, that wasn’t long ago—only a week? Has it even been a full week since we first kissed? 

Do I _like_ it when he orders me around? Do I _enjoy_ it? I think of phrases he's used in the past, and the memories are so vivid I can almost hear his voice in my ears. They twitch with pleasure when I just think about them.

  * “Open your mouth.”
  * “Relax.”
  * “Don’t fight your feelings.”
  * “Let me make it better.”
  * “You lie back and close your eyes.” (A shiver shoots through me at this vivid memory.)
  * “So pink for me.”
  * “It’s too early to be begging for mercy.”
  * “Satisfy me.” (Another shiver wracks my body from those last two phrases as well.)
  * “Submit, little one.”
  * “Give me everything, Konoe. I want to see all of you.”



My entire body trembles as I kiss him—unable to clear his voice from my head, my ears quivering with the memories. Perhaps it will be okay. _I_ will be okay. My heart will be satisfied. For now, I just want to enjoy this feeling of relief.

His tongue invades my mouth once more, gently sweeping across my fangs, rubbing smoothly against my tongue—and then he pulls back. 

“You need rest. Sleep, little one.”

Ah—another shiver runs down my back. He told me what to do _again_ —and this wasn’t even a sexual thing. 

He gently turns me around in his arms, turning me onto my side, so I can sleep little spoon-style. He crossing his arms in front of my chest, and he wraps heavy legs around mine. That happy fluffy tail of his covers me as well, and it’s so warm. I stroke the silky fur several times, and I notice a slight shiver behind me. Does he enjoy having his tail touched? 

I find it difficult to relax, however, because he just told me what to do in that voice again—and because my mind is still full of those vivid memories. I feel a blush creeping up my chest, and I shake my head, trying to stop it from moving any further north, knowing it will soon color my ears the same pink. My efforts are all in vain, however.

His tongue has already latched onto my ear, and he whispers lowly, “What is it. Are you thinking of something you should not? Something possibly inconducive to sleep?” 

I respond with a small indignant noise—irritated that he has noticed my blush, and even more irritated that he rightly suspects me of somewhat dirty thoughts.

“With such an innocent face, your dirty mind always surprises me. It makes for such an amusing and shocking contrast,” he whispers in my ear, giving it another lick and raising my temperature another five degrees.

I barely suppress a growl because I can’t deny his words. But it’s _his_ fault—it’s _his_ voice ringing in my head, over and over. He should take responsibility.

“Sleep.”

I lower my eyes, ignoring my blushing ears, and let myself be swept away by the soft grooming, ignoring my body's response. His tongue really is comforting, however, and even with his voice echoing in my head, the smooth grooming lulls me to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning, Konoe wakes to Rai's grooming, seeming to have forgotten most of the conversation from last night. He's irritated by the grooming on his legs and digs his heels in. Rai teaches him a lesson in submission. He means it when he says he wants Konoe to submit to him, apparently.

By the time I’ve woken, the morning moon of light is barely peeking through the window. I wake to a low rumbling purr and the sounds and sensations of being groomed—which, at first, I quite enjoy, my own purr delightedly chiming in—until it comes to my attention that it’s the bare skin of my ass and thighs which is being licked so thoroughly. My purr comes to an abrupt stop, nearly sticking in my throat.

This is _not_ how I’d prefer to be woken in the morning. It’s _barely_ dawn. It's much too early for this sort of stimulation. Plus that tongue is grooming me with ardent fervor.

I wouldn't mind so much if the licking was limited to my ears or even my upper body. That—while still a little strange—I’m starting to become accustomed to. But _this_? A shiver runs through me, a gasp I fail to stifle falls from my lips, and my body stiffens defensively.

I hear Rai’s low voice from behind my back. He hasn’t stopped grooming me. He just speaks in between the soft, slow strokes of his tongue.

“Oh ho, are you finally awake? I thought you might sleep away the entire day. Do you feel better after getting so much rest?”

I don’t reply, for fear of what sort of squabble I may start. I find I first have to gather my wits (and courage) about me to ask him to kindly unhand me. However, instead of the words I intend to say, a rather seductive-sounding keening issues from my mouth.

I’m quite shocked by my own voice, and I try to stifle the sound as soon as possible, plugging my mouth with the back of my hands, shoving them against my face with force. I’m too late, of course. What the _hell_ was that?

“Do you really like it that much?” Rai asks, continuing to groom me, and I notice his strokes have slowed down significantly. “Mind, I’m doing this to help your skin’s healing process. As you showed me earlier, this isn’t a place you can reach. I am happy to do it for you.”

There’s a certain degree of amusement in his tone that displeases me greatly, and I can’t repress a growl. The growling makes him stop, at least for a moment.

“Hey, now, _why_ is your tail all fluffed up? Oh—I see. You’re just so pleased to see me this morning. I am sure I can arrange _some_ sort of activity to appease your desires. You just don’t really seem like a _morning_ cat to me, if you know what I mean—you’re so grumpy when you first wake. But I’ll oblige. Just let me finish here first.”

His tone really grates on my nerves, and I start struggling, realizing too late that he is using his body weight to keep me securely pinned against the bed. He’s using both his hands _and_ his body to keep me in place, and he outweighs me—he’s probably twice my size—and with the help of gravity, I don’t stand a chance. Yet I squirm desperately, just the same.

“Patience is a _virtue_ , little one,” the languid voice matches the languid strokes of his tongue, which stokes my ire. I feel his hand wrapping around my hips, where he almost casually palms my groin, which, in my struggle to get away, I have unintentionally been rubbing against the bed. Of course, it’s had an effect on my body.

“Ah, I see. You find yourself in a rather desperate state already.”

“ _N-no!_ ” I’m mortified now as well as angry. I feel a blush rising in my cheeks. I am _not_ interested in that, not now, not so early in the morning. My thoughts stop for a moment, wondering exactly how honest I’m being with myself, as I feel his hand resting there. I shake my head slightly. Even if I were, I would _never_ admit it just like that. It’s just the result of rubbing against the bed like that, in my attempts to get away from his excessive touching and licking.

Suddenly, I hear a whisper, right in the depths of my ear. It startles me since I thought Rai’s head was much lower, and I didn’t detect any movement. His breath moves my fur, tickling me, stimulating me even further.

“I didn’t know you liked me quite this much, though I shouldn’t be surprised, I suppose. It pleases me greatly. Is it just how I touch you, or do you like how I look as well?”

As if to punctuate his sentence, as well as to provide an example of what he is talking about, a wet tongue enters the depths of my ear, licking it soundly, making strange wet noises. I try to escape the sensation by both pulling up my shoulder defensively and flicking my ear away, but my reaction has no effect. In fact, my response seems to only increase his enthusiasm.

I feel his large hands against my head, holding me firmly in place, forcing my head still and bringing my ear to his lips, so he can assault it further. Strange, soft sighs escape my mouth, and goosebumps cover my arms.

“Stop—let me go— _stop_!” I beg for mercy.

Spoken tenderly and directly in my ear, I hear the following words:

“Don’t you remember what I told you? You don’t get to decide what happens to you. Your only role here is to _submit_. Perhaps you might try that now—before I decide to _force_ your submission.”

The words, while spoken so tenderly and gently, are _not at all_ tender or gentle. Does he really want to _force_ my submission? My heart rate speeds up, and I feel it thumping in the back of my throat. I feel panic.  
  
I do not _want_ to submit.

Now, this is suddenly _not_ just about grooming, _not_ just about licking my ears anymore. This is about the fact that I do _not_ want to belong to anyone.

I have forgotten the tender words exchanged last night and instead am overcome with apprehension.I want to get _away_ from anyone who wants me to be something I am not. I am not a cat who _submits_. I will _never_ be a cat who submits. Because if I do submit myself to this cat, doesn’t it mean—and this is the source of my panic—doesn’t it mean that I _also_ enjoy pain? I can’t face that about myself. I can’t and won't admit it. It means I enjoy pain—I enjoy being taken violently. I enjoy the sensations of losing control, having all responsibility for my actions absolved and allowing my desires to run wild.

_I don’t want that._

At least, I don’t want to _acknowledge_ that I want it.

My body, however, wants it, and it really wants it in a bad way. But I will not give in, regardless of the cost.

Before I fully realize what I’m doing, without considering the consequences of my actions, I bare my fangs, draw my claws, and hiss. I growl threateningly, and my fur puffs out, standing fully on end—both on my ears and tail.

Rai backs his upper body away from me for a moment, observing my current posture.

“You’re _choosing_ to be forced? This comes as somewhat of a surprise.”

I do not speak. I only growl lowly and hiss aggressively in response.

“Don’t you remember what I told you last night? That I _expect_ resistance from you?” He is kneeling back on his haunches now, as he observes me, a rather cool look in his eye. His voice remains very calm. “Especially after the treatment you had on the Lord of Ransen’s estate, I expected you’d show me resistance.”

I feel a hand gently stroke my ears, and I flinch from his touch. He must have very long limbs because I didn’t even _see_ his hand sneak up behind me. His voice softens slightly with the next question.

“Are you _sure_ you want to get into this now? Just about grooming?”

I hiss again. I’m slightly confused—it feels like he is giving me a chance to back down, a chance to give in.

“You understand what it is that I require from you, don’t you? I’m asking that you allow me to care for your skin,” Rai’s low voice continues. “It’s my responsibility to look out for your health. You are _my_ responsibility now.”

He seems completely unaffected by my aggressiveness. My growling doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

In the blink of an eye, his hands shoot out and grab my wrists, pulling them up violently over my head. A burst of pain shoots through my shoulder from the shock, and I growl loudly in response, but he completely overpowers me.

Before I know what has happened, he has bound my hands together—using a belt of some kind—maybe it’s the obi that was on the side of the bed—and they are now fastened securely over my head.

“I’m surprised you chose to defy me like this, Konoe.”

His voice is low, at my ears. I struggle with the bonds of my hands, unable to free them. How did he do that? How did he move so quickly? Then I remember his job. I suppose there are times when he is required not to kill his bounty, and he must capture them. I guess he would be pretty good at subduing his prey. Especially if he outweighed them two to one.

My ears lower, though I continue to growl.

“Especially in light of how you were treated at the estate, weren’t they violent toward you? Are you hoping I treat you the same way? It truly surprises me.” 

I feel his claw tracing my neck.

“Submit.”

I growl lowly, keeping my chin pointed stubbornly down, refusing to show him my throat. I also look away from his face.

“Perhaps—perhaps you’ve found you have a taste for violent treatment? Perhaps you might even _enjoy_ it?”

Those words—hearing that phrase—from Rai’s lips, sends a shiver through my body. I know he detects it because I can hear him smiling when he speaks the next words.

“I hit the nail on the head, didn’t I? It’s nothing to be ashamed over. I’m happy to oblige. I thought I detected it during our last… session together.”

 A soft, surprised sound comes out of my mouth, which I fail to suppress, and I can’t meet his eye—this time out of shame. I’d mistakenly glanced back at him in surprise when he said those things to me. I feel my ears heating up.

“I could tell when I held you down that you enjoyed it quite a bit. Your body is quite responsive to that sort of violent treatment. It’s quite a predicament to find yourself in, I would imagine. Your mind doesn’t want to be a slave, yet your body responds remarkably well. The question remains, Konoe: What does your _heart_ desire? Why not let your heart decide what you truly want?”

I feel his claws dangerously tracing the lines of my throat. He could easily kill me with those claws—if he wanted to. Easily. Those claws are dangerous, deadly, experienced. If I angered him to a serious enough degree, this silver cat could easily kill me. I swallow nervously, but I do not offer up my throat in submission, nor do I look at his face.

“I’ll repeat what I said last night. From my view, it doesn’t matter what you want. Your only job here is to _learn_ to submit. Submit to me, Konoe. It’s your last chance to do it by your own choice.”

I stubbornly refuse, although even at this point, I don’t know _why_ I’m digging in my heels anymore. I keep my chin pointed down in dogged determination.

“Have it your way, then. I can _make_ you submit if that's what you really want.” His calm voice floats seductively into my ears. 

Fear, unlike anything I experienced at the estate, washes over me. I’ve _never_ defied Rai like this before, and I don’t know what he will do to me. 

I feel a hand grasping the base of my fluffed-out tail, and he gives it a sound tug, which straightens out my body on the bed. It also sends a shock run down my spine and into my hips, making me grunt in response. Rai climbs on top of me and, keeping my bound arms pinned mercilessly overhead, and leans down over my chest toward my collarbones, which he first nips—and then _bites_. It’s a real bite—though not hard quite enough to draw blood—and he follows the bite with soft touches from his lips and tongue. He continues tracing the length of my collarbone, out toward my shoulder, with these bites, licks, and kisses. 

It’s an extraordinary possessive and violent act, but also incredibly exciting. Blood rushes into my lower half, and since he’s straddling my waist, he must be able to feel my arousal. The hand he had on my tail moves to my dick—which is now dripping. He cups in his hand and strokes it firmly in his palm roughly, crushing the head in his fingers. It _hurts_ —yet it feels _so_ good. I feel like I might melt into the sheets, and my body loses all power with that touch. Goosebumps shiver across my skin, I press my lips closed in desperation to suppress any sounds from my mouth since sounds coming from my mouth are obscene and filthy, but my efforts are useless, nor can I cover my mouth, since my hands are pinned overhead. 

“Show me your throat.”

I shake my head violently, keeping my chin tucked down toward my chest, and my body quivers, my tail trembling, all my fur bristled. He grabs my tail, giving it another sharp tug at the base—which pulls another dirty groan from me—and then slowly licks the hooked end, nipping it, occasionally biting it—which sends sparks of pain along with unbelievable pleasure shooting into my hips.

I’m confused—desperate—confused tears pricking my eyes.

“ _Please_ ,” I whisper. I do not _want_ to submit, but I can’t handle this stimulation. It’s embarrassing, and I feel so dirty.

“Submit,” he says calmly. “Show me your throat.” His voice is calm, cool, unaffected.

With my tail in his mouth, between his teeth—he grazes it with his fangs—his hands move to my chest, where he roughly crushes my nipples between his fingers. The sensation is painful and overwhelming—and it causes a spike of breathless pleasure to rise in my waist, and I bring up my legs behind Rai’s back, bending them at the knees, scraping my heels against the mattress.

“ _Please_ ,” I beg again.

“Show me your throat.”

His other hand continues caressing my dick painfully, and suddenly, he presses his thumb into the head—crushing it. I cry out loudly—not understanding if what I feel is pain or pleasure, or both. I also feel immense fear with these sensations, afraid of what I’m feeling, afraid of this strange mix of emotions, and afraid that he is so easily able to pull these sensations from my body. I suddenly feel a touch on the tender skin of my ass, and inhale sharply—fear coursing through my body. My eyes look up at his face fearfully. 

“If your skin weren’t already so injured, understand I would be spanking this ass until you submit. In fact,” he leans down over me, his long silver hair brushing over my chest, “for this act of rebellion, I believe I _owe_ you a spanking—as soon as I deem you well enough. You'd best prepare yourself.” The words are whispered almost seductively in my ear. The image of being taken over Rai’s knee—his hand slapping my ass—is almost too much to bear. Another shudder runs through my body.

“Show me your throat.” 

The tears pooling in my eyes spill over the brim, running down my cheeks—the image of being forcefully dragged over his lap, his hand caressing my ass softly before he slaps it—the pleasure and pain of it is too much. I finally submit—unable to take any more.

He doesn’t let up on his ministrations, even after I raise my chin, even though I’m desperate to please him. 

"Please," I beg.

I look at his face through tear-stained lashes, as he watches me, writhing in pleasure, on the bed before him, nipples red, dick straining, fur puffed out in pleasure.

“What am I going to do with you?” The question is murmured softly.

Leaning down, he bites my throat—almost tenderly nipping at first—and then biting me almost hard enough to draw blood. The bites and nips drive me crazy—and I try to suppress my moaning, but those sensations alone are _almost_ enough to bring me to my limit. Almost.

He stops his current ministrations on my body—leaving me in _terrible_  want—an extreme need surrounding my body like an itch, my hands bound above my head, unable to help myself.

“Are you ready for me to finish tending your skin?”

I nod, but I’m in dire straits. He isn’t going to _leave_ me like this, is he? He can't _possibly_ think of leaving me is such a state of arousal, can he?

However—keeping my hands bound, he roughly flips me onto my side, and he continues the slow, torturous strokes of his tongue against my thighs and ass. He presses my bound hands to my chest, preventing me from touching myself. The slow touches to my skin feel _amazing_ —tantalizing—delightful—but not stimulating enough. 

Desire pools in my groin and my cock is hard and dripping. Tears of frustration slip from my eyes.

“Sometimes, little one,” his voice drifts into my ears, “grooming is simply grooming. When I tell you to submit, you need to submit. It’s a very  _hard_  lesson to learn.”

I try to move my hands again, hoping I can at least adjust myself— _he_ was the one who got me worked up like this. But he won’t allow it. For now, it looks like I just have to bear with this misery. I’m frustrated beyond belief, and I can’t even think because with my mind so hazy with desire.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai takes Konoe, freshly groomed, down to breakfast. Poor Konoe is suffering from an attitude problem, and Rai suggests he adjust it--and threatens him, much to Konoe's surprise. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: intimidating and threat of punishment in this chapter. Plus there are references to sex, of course, and some foul language. I think you can count on Konoe having some language issues for the rest of the series.

Worked up beyond belief, Rai has finished grooming me. “Caring for your skin,” he calls it. Then he decides to go downstairs for a meal. He dresses me, taking no notice of my arousal. In fact, he seems to take extra pains to brush against my skin and caress me, making flirty eye contact, which is quite irritating. Occasionally, he looks up at me through his long lashes and gives me a smile.

“You can’t always get what you want, little one,” he says gently. “It’s a hard lesson to learn, I’m sure. I’m sure you can bear it. Come, let’s get some food in that belly of yours. I’m sure it will improve your mood.”

There’s nothing _wrong_ with my mood, I think huffily. But I keep my mouth shut, getting up from the bed while he fixes his clothing. I’ll be damned if he is going to carry me down the stairs again. I look away from him, pouting.

“You really are upset with me, aren’t you?” His gentle voice caresses my ear, along with his fingers, which startle me mightily. Since I’m not looking at him, I don’t see them coming. “Come now. Sometimes, grooming is simply grooming, and it’s your role to allow me to do as I wish. As far as that lesson goes, I, for one, can’t _wait_ till your ass gets a little better. It deserves a sound spanking. For your attitude now as well.”

A small gasp comes out of my mouth. What’s he talking about? I glance up at him, and he’s smiling at me. Is he teasing? Or does he really want to spank me? A little shiver goes through my body, and I’m sure he notices. It’s infuriating beyond words.

“What? Can you really blame me? You were really defiant.” He strokes my ears again. “Come now. Let’s go.”

I watch his large fluffy tail as we walk down the stairs—and the _only_ thing I can think about when I see that tail is how good it felt against my dick yesterday morning. I feel myself harden a little more, each time it sways back and forth. Is he doing that on purpose?

I give a loud, exasperated sigh, which makes him stop walking and turn his head in my direction.

“I could also _refuse_ to wait till your skin heals, and do it right in the dining room, in front of Bardo’s guests, you know. I could do it _over_ your clothing, so I wouldn’t feel bad. I bet _you’d_ feel it just the same.”

“Do what?” I ask, confused by his words.  
  
“Spank you. For your  _continued_ poor attitude.” He looks at me pointedly.

A small gasp comes out of my mouth, and now I am truly afraid. I back away with my ears lowered. “You would _do_ that? In front of everyone?”

“I will. If you don’t change this attitude of yours. _Drop_ it.”

My heart is in my mouth. I’m not exactly sure what he wants from me, but I am _certain_ that I don’t want his wrath. I’m shocked he’d even say such a thing. I haven’t raised his ire before. And the way he spoke just now was calm—he didn’t really sound angry. He sounded so matter of fact, as though spanking me publicly was the natural course of action.

So I try again, keeping my ears lowered, keeping up with his steps, trying not to pout or mope, and ignoring my persistent state of arousal—especially now that he spoke of taking me over his knee. I can’t seem to get the image out of my head. Another shiver goes through my body. 

I think I might actually _like_ that idea.

Oh, my gods, what the hell is _wrong_ with me?

I actually feel a little sick when we sit down. I don’t sit at the table with Rai. Instead, I kneel on the floor next to his chair, keeping my eyes lowered. I don’t know why I choose to do this, but I do, thinking this will show my subservience and my improved attitude. Also, on the floor, Rai won't be able to see how freakishly aroused I am right now.

The dining room is actually filled with several other cats—about twenty of them—happily enjoying their breakfast. What if he _did_ take me over his knee right here? Gods, I might actually come right here in the middle of my punishment—in front of everyone if he spanked me right here. 

Shit. I _have_ to stop thinking about this. I look down at my hands, examining them carefully, trying to think about something else.

I jump when I feel a hand on my ears. I flinch again when he pets me gently.

“What’s the matter? Why are you so jumpy this morning?” His voice is low, concerned.

“Um, it’s nothing. I’m sorry.” I apologize and keep my eyes lowered. Maybe it's because he threatened to spank me in here, and I can't stop thinking about it?

He hands me food on a plate, and I realize I can’t eat. I’m _much_ too distracted. I keep imagining what it would feel like—being dragged across his lap, draped over his knees. Would he spank _hard_? I’m sure he would. But wouldn’t he show a _little_ mercy, for the sake of my injured skin? Wouldn’t he _want_ to yank up my robe and spank my bare bottom in the middle of the dining area? Wouldn’t he want to _expose_ me? Wouldn’t that cause a scene? Wouldn’t everyone in the dining room look at what he was doing? Gods, I’d be so embarrassed I’d die.

I realize I’m sweating profusely. I’ve taken only a single bite of the food on my plate, and I cannot eat. I’m much too aroused, much too excited, and my thoughts are running wild, rampant, and I _cannot_ get them under control. What is _wrong_ with me?

He really isn’t the type to _want_ to cause a scene, I realize, yet he would want to do this to make me learn something. Perhaps because he knows I _hate_ causing scenes that this would be the perfect way to teach me a lesson.

But does he know I secretly _enjoy_ this kind of attention?  
  
Oh, gods, Sebastian was _right_. I certainly _do_ enjoy it. I _didn’t_ like it when Sebastian did it. No. Not him. He is cruel. But Rai—he is my master. If it were something he _wished_ to do—that would please me very much. Even just thinking about it—

A small erotic sound leaks out of my mouth, surprising me. I stuff a bit of bread in there quickly, making myself shut up. My face is hot, my ears are surely pink.

Rai looks down at me, suddenly—that noise must have given away my thoughts. I do not look up.

“The bread—it’s very good,” I say, the food still in my mouth, a rather lame excuse.

“It sounds like it. It sounds like it was the best bread you’ve ever had in your life, in fact,” Rai says suspiciously.

Shit. I try to take another small bite, and I take a swallow of whatever is in the cup he poured for me. It’s ale, I think. Who the fuck serves _ale_ for breakfast? Bardo would, I suppose.

I still feel like a possession. I _am_ a possession. So shouldn’t I _feel_ like one? Ugh—this is so humiliating!

I take a peek at Rai, just sneaking a quick glance at him—and he is still watching me closely, suspiciously. Shit. What can I do? My heart is beating so fast.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Why are you acting like this?”

There’s _no way_ I can tell him. 

“Acting like what?” I ask, trying to be casual. “What do you mean?”

I suddenly feel a hand on my chin, and it’s rather forcefully turned in his direction. “Little one, what’s the matter with you?”

I drop my eyes, unwilling to meet his. I’m ashamed—truly ashamed—to admit what my true problem is. I’m not going to tell him I’ve been fantasizing about him spanking me right here in the dining room, fantasizing _so much_ that I can’t eat my breakfast, _so much_ that my stomach hurts, _so much_ that I’m afraid I might explode. So I try to come up with something _close_ to the truth.

“I can’t get myself under control,” I whisper guiltily. “I’m trying, and I can’t do it. My mind won’t be controlled. Everything I see makes me think of… what I’m trying not to think of.”

I don’t make eye contact, even with my chin facing his. However, I sense he isn’t angry with me. I’m not being rebellious, after all.

“I see.” He doesn’t release my chin and simply waits. I feel compelled to speak. I feel like I have to say something more, or else he won’t let me go. And he _is_ causing a scene. I can feel the other guests looking at him. Of course, they would. Everyone watches that gorgeous silver cat wherever he goes, just because of what he looks like, how elegant he is. And if he has a companion, of course, they watch even more. It's the same as if he were to spank me in the middle of the dining room right now. And I need to _stop_ thinking about that!

“It’s probably because I didn’t submit to you earlier,” I confess. 

“I see.” He still doesn’t release me, which compels me to say even more. I’m now _truly_ afraid of what may come out of my mouth.

“And probably because of what you said to me in the hallway upstairs.”  
  
“Oh. I _see_.” There’s a short pause, and he asks, “Did that bother you so much? That sound that just came out of your mouth—that didn’t sound like you were _bothered_ , per se.” 

“Um…” I don’t know how to answer that. I squeeze my eyes closed. “Do we _absolutely_ have to have this discussion right now? Perhaps we could discuss this in a more _private_ setting?”

“Are you telling me that you would be more truthful at a later time, whereas you are reluctant to tell me the truth now?” He sounds doubtful.

He really has a point there. Even in a more private setting, I don’t think I would feel much more comfortable than I do right now.

“Um, I just don’t feel like it’s _appropriate_ for discussion in the dining room. Not when I’m trying to get myself under control.”

He finally releases my chin. “Little one, has it occurred to you that I don’t consider it your responsibility to ‘get yourself under control,’ as you say? Upstairs, I asked you to _fix your attitude_. I didn’t ask you to ‘control yourself.’ Has it occurred to you that _I don’t mind_ if you’re not exactly under control at all times?”

I look up at him, just as he takes a rather large bite of food. When he eats— _even_ when he eats—he eats sensually. Everything he does looks elegant and sensual. I can’t help remembering that night of the festival—when he ate—no, he didn’t _exactly_ eat me, but it certainly felt like I might be devoured. My heart makes a little leap in my chest. I can't help it. Another small sound leaks out of my throat, and he glances my way, eyebrows slightly raised.

“It hasn’t occurred to you, has it? Otherwise, would my earlier actions make sense?” He looks at me pointedly. “Think about it for a moment. When you wouldn’t submit to me this morning. What do you think I expected? How do you think I expected you'd react?” I hadn’t thought of this. He _wants_ me like this? He _wants_ me thinking about sex like this? Why?

“Your attitude is much better. I think distraction may be the best thing for you. Though—I’m curious as to where exactly your mind is going in all this, and your lack of ability to finish the food on your plate concerns me. I wonder what I will have to do to you to make you clean up your plate.”

I choke on my ale when he says those words. Once I get myself recovered, I ask, “Excuse me?”

“I am pretty sure you heard me. I said, ‘I wonder what I will have to do you to make you clean up your plate.’ Is threatening you enough, or will I have to actually _do_ something? See, in my eyes, having you in tears is _not_ conducive to you enjoying your meal.”

Another gasp escapes my mouth, and I don’t even try to suppress it. Is he threatening to spank me for not eating my food? My dick twitches and I have to swallow the extra saliva in my mouth to keep myself from drooling. I quickly stuff some bread in my mouth to soak up the extra saliva in there.

In a much lower voice, nearing a whisper, he continues softly, “I _could_ threaten to take you over my knee if you didn’t finish your food. However, leaving you in tears with your breath hitching would make it difficult for you to finish your meal afterward, as lovely a show as you would be for the guests.”

He leans down closer to my ears, whispering even lower, and I’m sure he sees me shiver when his breath moves the fur deep inside my ear. “Plus, I have a feeling that would encourage you _not_ to eat. Perhaps it might be _more_ effective to promise I’ll take you over my knee once we get back upstairs _if_ you clean up your plate now?” He follows his words with his tongue, which licks my ear soundly.

I am shocked to watch my hands reaching down to my plate and shoving hand over hand of food into my mouth. What the _fuck_ am I doing? My heart is racing.

“See, you _surprise_ me, little one. I don’t hate it. I quite _enjoy_ it, in fact. It makes me feel surprisingly pleased with you, in fact.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai takes his companion upstairs for the promised punishment--and Konoe is having some regrets.
> 
> There's a rather... interesting spanking in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So--I should say, this story has been really hard to write lately, and I wanted to post *something*. This chapter didn't exactly come out the way I had originally planned, but I'm having trouble with the "plot." So, this is mostly smut filler. Just FYI. I'm working on the plot--having trouble with how to work the characters together and so forth. 
> 
> Still, I hope it's somewhat enjoyable. :)
> 
> Plus, I'm really trying hard to keep these characters and their relationships separate from the other stories I'm currently writing. Their relationship is really weird.

_Why did I do this?_

I deliberately asked for it. I’m not sure I’d say I exactly  _provoked_ Rai, but I did indicate that this is what I wanted. I deliberately did specific things to indicate that _this_ is what I wanted. And now—here I am—being dragged back up to the bedroom for what exactly, I don’t really know, but I’m more than a little nervous.

No, I should just be honest. I know _exactly_ what’s coming next.

It’s just... never happened before. Not with _Rai_.

My heart is thumping loudly in my ears, and goosebumps shiver across my skin in anticipation, and _neither_  reaction is because I’m afraid. My reactions are because I’m anticipating this. Oddly, I’m incredibly excited and aroused— _still_. I can't wait for him to get his hands on me.

I think. Perhaps I am just a _little_ afraid.

Shouldn't I _hate_ this? He is trying to control my behavior, trying to control me, trying to control my attitude, even. Why don't I hate this? If anything, I think I hate myself a little bit for being this aroused. What is wrong with me? Am I really _that_ desperate for his attention?

Rai opens the door to the bedroom, walks in, and sets me down on the floor, gently.

“Well, then. Do you think this is what is needed to adjust your attitude? If so, I will do what is required.”

He sounds so calm and collected—just like usual. His beautiful pale blue eye is watching me, as I kneel on the floor before him. He takes a seat on the side of the bed, and between my heart racing uncontrollably and my ears ringing, it's difficult for me to understand his words.

“I don’t think this is going to be what you are anticipating. However, I will do it nonetheless because I think it’s what’s you need. Come.” He pats the bed next to him, indicating he'd like me to climb up on his lap. 

For a moment, I remain frozen in place, unsure of whether I should I obey. I am finding it difficult to make eye contact. Was this a mistake? Have I made a serious miscalculation? I’m not sure this is what _I_ want anymore, either. But if it isn’t, why did I behave the way I did in the dining room? It seemed like my body was acting like that on its own accord, provoking him on its own. Do I really just crave his attention?

“Konoe, I told you to come here.” The calm voice doesn't waver.

I look up at him now, and his face is still composed. I lower my face and crawl over to the bed next to where he is sitting, but my change of heart makes me hesitate once more before climbing up on his lap.

It turns out I don’t have to. He lifts me from the floor as though I am weightless, easily pulling me up over his knee, laying me on the bed, draping my legs off the side of his lap. My lower body is mostly on his lap, my chest and above resting comfortably on the bed. He smooths both hands across my back, over my clothes, pushing against me in firm but gentle strokes.

“Even now, you are flouting my commands. How disobedient. You don’t come when you are called. You wouldn’t allow me to care for you this morning. Your attitude is terrible. What are we going to do to fix this, hmm?” His voice has softened slightly.

His hand stays on my ass, stroking me softly. I’m still very aroused from our unfinished activities earlier this morning. I’m sure he can feel it through my clothes, since I’m currently pressed against him, almost uncomfortably. It feels good, though—and I appreciate his touch on me. But his words strike fear into my heart and make it flutter higher into my throat.

“Little one, I know you aren’t happy about your status as my companion. Let me make this easier for you. You don’t have choices here. The _only_ choice you have right now is to submit and obey. That is all. Let me take care of the rest of your needs, all right?”

His hand is still rubbing me—all around my ass, my lower back, my thighs. And then, he starts lifting up my robe—ever so slowly, tantalizingly.

I inhale sharply. I realize I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think I want this after all! I feel panic rising in my chest, and the pressure is suddenly too much. The way he’s doing this is… too slow. It’s torturous and teasing, and it’s too much to take. Plus I thought he was going to do this _over_ my clothing! Isn’t _that_ what he said? This is going to be mortifying—and I can't take this!

“N-no,” the word slips out of my mouth, and I can’t stop myself. I start to squirm off his lap, but the hand on my lower back firmly holds me in place. “ _Please_ —no.”

“Remember, little one,” he purrs softly—and he is _actually_ purring now—I can feel it rumbling softly on my hip pressed against his belly, “this is what _you_ asked for downstairs. You need to be very careful what you request from me. And as I’m sure you've already learned by now, you don’t get to refuse. Your response to me is always  _yes_. Let’s see if we can't adjust your attitude just a little.”

“Please,” I beg. Shameful tears burn in the back of my eyes, and I haven’t even felt anything painful yet. He hasn’t hit me, and I’m barely even exposed: the robe is only lifted to my knees. He’s lifting it deliberately slowly, keeping one hand on my lower back, preventing my escape, and the other ever so slowly revealing bare skin. His fingertips tickling the backs of my knees—walking over them gently.

“You’re doing very well. Just _submit_. Use this opportunity to practice submission.”

That calm cool sound of his voice is changing, little by little. It's dropping in pitch, becoming slightly breathier. Is that my imagination? Does he enjoy this? Does he enjoy feeling power over me, or is he anticipating something? I try to keep my body still, but I squirm slightly when his fingers reach the backs of my thighs. They slip down between them—moving gently and slowly, exploring the texture of my skin. I wonder if he’s looking at me, and if he is, how closely—and I blush fiercely at the thought of being under such scrutiny.

I feel terribly exposed. It’s too much! This is horribly embarrassing.

“Please,” I beg again. “ _Please_!”

“Submit,” comes the voice, even lower, this time, and his hand lingers at my sit spot—right where my legs and bottom meet—and they tickle—well, they don’t _exactly_ tickle, if I’m completely honest. They feel _amazing_. That area is so sensitive, and his touch is making me even harder. I realize he can probably tell the effect his touch is having since I’m pressed against his legs, he can obviously feel me twitching against his lap. I feel my ears heating up. His hand flattens suddenly, cupping the bare skin of my ass, and I gasp loudly in surprise.

Just as I notice how very hot my ears are—they feel like they are burning—the hand on my lower back moves, brushing the tips of my ears.

“I want your ass the same color as these beautiful ears of yours, Konoe,” his purring voice says. It’s mortifying, and I try _not_ to think of the other recent times I’ve been spanked, but of course, they pop into my head, completely unbidden.

Would he have _enjoyed_ seeing me punished at the Lord of Ransen’s estate? Would he have enjoyed seeing me spanked and whipped? I was punished _so_  severely, and many times over. My body was toyed with till I could no longer stand—would he have enjoyed watching me come undone like that? Would _I_ have liked it, if he were watching?

I don’t know if I feel more aroused or humiliated, but the cool breeze from the open window against the skin of my ass sends a little shiver through my body, which I'm sure he feels, too, making me even more aware of how exposed I am.

“Perhaps I should have done this in the dining room in front of the guests,” he continues in a near whisper. “I just couldn’t bring myself to share your charms. Plus, there’s a part of me that believes you’d enjoy that a little too much for your own good and miss the lesson I’m trying to teach.”

He squeezes my right cheek lightly.

“You realize I’m trying to teach you something here, don’t you? Tell me what it is, hmm?”

Does he want me to answer him? Out loud? Like, with actual words? I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can talk to him when I’m lying in this position. I’m far too excited—and I’m way too ashamed.

“Little one, I need to you answer me.” The fingers wander down my ass again, slipping between my cheeks again, and I arch my back in response to that touch.

“Yes, sir,” I answer quietly, speaking into the mattress.

“What lesson am I trying to teach you?”

“Mmm,” I say, trying to sound obedient without actually saying anything. 

The hand in my ears returns to my lower back, holding me down firmly. My erection is pressed against his legs rather firmly as well, and I let out a tiny groan. And then—the hand stroking my ass suddenly stops. A sudden smack against my cheeks startles me—it makes a _remarkably_  loud sound, echoing in the room—and it’s followed by a sharp, stinging pain—not at _all_ what I was expecting, which causes me to cry out suddenly and press my feet to the floor. However, right after the slap, his hand comes back to rest on my skin immediately—cupping the area he just spanked and stroking it firmly with his fingers, pressing me hard against his lap. That confuses my nerves, making me feel... pleasure?

It is such a surprising mix of pleasure and pain that I can’t help the small cry—and it was just a _single_ spank—but the pained cry coming from my mouth changes into a purring, mewling sound. My response is unseemly and embarrassing.

“I am waiting for your answer, little one,” he reminds me.

“Um,” I try again, struggling to make words. “You require my submission?” I ask.

“Good. What else?”

When I don’t immediately answer, I feel him take his hand away, and I just  _know_ he’s going to spank me again. This time, however, he aims directly for my sit spot. It’s even louder and harder, and I cry out in what I think is pain. However, just like before, right after he spanks me, he cradles my sit spot with his open hand, rubbing the area, almost as though to disperse the offended nerves—which strangely turns the pain into an extremely pleasurable sensation. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced. It feels _so_ good, and I moan with pleasure, and I can’t help squirming in his lap, rubbing myself rather lewdly against him, my dick now dripping with precum.

There’s no _way_ I can talk when I’m this aroused. My thighs part slightly, my mouth is open, and I want _more_. I feel totally obscene at this point, yet I’m ashamed to be seen like this. My rational brain hasn't yet been able to give in to the pleasure I'm feeling, but the desire in my body is almost winning the war with rationality.

“What else, little one?”

“You want me to come when I’m called.” I’m shocked that I’m able to speak, in fact, the words almost spill out on their own—but the word “come” is in this sentence, and that word is very prominent in my mind at this very moment, for some strange reason.

“Very good.” His hand keeps rubbing me and slips down between my legs drawing an absolutely filthy sound from my throat. I am grunting and sighing, and I am pushing my ass up into his hands—I want his touch _so much_ —I am so turned on right now I don’t know what to do. I want to _come_ —I've wanted to since this morning.

“ _Please_ , I can’t,” I start to beg, the tears in my eyes threaten to fall, and to my surprise, a loud, sticky purr starts rumbling in the back of my throat. My tail, which is ridiculously fluffy, has been completely out of control this entire time, is begging him for release, coiling itself around his arm. He strokes the crooked tip fondly, sending a little wave a pleasure shivering down my tail into my hips.

“Oh, you _can_ , and you _will_ , because it pleases me. What else am I trying to teach you? Submission, coming when you’re called—and not _until_ you’re called, mind you. What else?”

 _How dirty_ , I think, and I get even more aroused.

“I can’t take anymore,” I beg. “ _Please_ , Rai— _please!_ ”

Another spank on my ass—also directed to my sit spot—and then another one—two in a row—hard and loud—and his hand rubs the areas he spanked, dispersing the pain, turning it into pleasure, turning my cries of pain into ecstatic cries of indulgence. I don’t even recognize my own body. What is happening to me?

“ _Please_ ,” I beg. 

“Answer my questions first, little one, and then we will see to your release.” I notice his voice has gotten quite hoarse as well. Is he feeling it as well? Oh—the thought that I might have the power to turn him on by being so ridiculously aroused myself makes my chest hurt. But now, I have a motivation to answer his questions, so I try a little harder to get my brain, hazy with desire, to function.

“Improve my attitude,” I say.

“Very good.”

Rai grabs the base of my tail with the hand pressing on my lower back, holding it firmly, making me arch my back and presenting my ass fully. As a reward for my last response, he spanks me three times in quick succession—hard, stinging slaps on each cheek and on my sit spot. Then, as before, he quickly rubs me down, slipping his fingers between my legs and down my thighs, distributing the pain and pleasurable sensations even further. 

My back is arched, and I'm not struggling to get away. Not once have I tried to cover myself from these punishing spanks. I’m eager for _more_ —I had no idea a spanking could feel like this. _I want more._

“ _Please_ ,” I beg. Am I begging for more? Do I want more? What is _wrong_ with me?

Suddenly, there’s an onslaught of volleys—one right after the other—while he continues gripping my tail firmly. He alternates: aiming for one cheek, then my sit spot, then the other cheek, then my sit spot, then he cups my butt and thighs with an open palm to spread out the tingling pain. But before I can even take a breath, he starts over. So I hear four slaps in a row, loud enough to make my ears twitch, and I feel a sudden stinging pain, but when he rubs me there's an overwhelming rush of pleasure—suddenly interrupted by four more loud spanks, more stinging pain, followed by even more pleasure—and they all blend together until I can’t distinguish pain from pleasure anymore. Plus, the way I’m bouncing on his lap rubs the bristled fur on the base of my tail the wrong way, and that causes immensely pleasurable sensations as well. The assault leaves me panting, sighing, purring, gasping for breath.

It’s so confusing—and it feels so _good_ —tears stream down my cheeks, and my cock is straining and obscenely wet against his thighs—and I am nearly at my limit when he finally stops.

When he stops, he just simply spreads his open palm against my ass, holding it there for a moment. It’s tormenting because I am so close to coming.

_I need release._

“Ah— _please_ ,” I beg, my voice quiet and submissive. I am so desperate. My feet are on the floor now, and I’m on tip-toe with my legs spread, pressing my butt into his hand desperately. I feel so eager, so vulgar. I don't understand my response, and my body is flushed, covered in goosebumps. I just need a _little_ more, though!

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson? Will you be able to submit to me?” his low voice purrs in my ear. He sounds a little breathless, too, which makes my heart leap.

“Yes, sir,” I whisper eagerly. “Please.” I really can’t take anymore. I will do _anything_ for him at this point.

“We shall see. Stand up and disrobe.”

 _What?_  

I slowly stand up, and when I do, I remember my yukata was only pulled up, not removed, for the duration of this punishment—if that's what this was.

“Go ahead.”

Slowly, I obey. I untie the obi and drop it to the ground, and then I slip out of the yukata, letting it fall off my shoulders. My entire body is flushing with embarrassment, my ears are pink, and I find I'm unable to lift my blushing face. My abdomen and hips are pink from rubbing against his lap.

“Raise your face, little one. Look at me.” His voice sounds tender.

I’m ashamed, but I meet his gaze. I’m standing before him, completely nude, breathing shallowly, more aroused than I have _ever_ been in my entire life—except perhaps after that experience with Verg. Even in spite of the pleasure I felt, my ass is feeling awfully warm right now, especially my sit spot, and I'm tempted to rub it a little. In fact, I stop my hands when I realize that's what they are doing.

“You are beautiful. You are my companion. There will be times I want to see you _just_ like this. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I enjoy looking at your body—especially when you are in this state. I want to see you lose yourself just like that—and you took your punishment very well. I’m proud of you.”

His words of praise make me feel funny, so I look back down at my feet, and then _away_ from my feet because when I look down, I can’t help seeing my raging hard-on. It's right _there_ , taunting me, embarrassing me, and demanding immediate attention. I try to use my tail to cover myself, but it just won’t stay still. It’s too damn eager. Shit. I sway lightly on my feet and glance up at my master once more hopefully.

Raising both eyebrows slightly, the corners of his mouth curving slightly, he beckons to me, and my heart gives another leap.

“Come to bed. Let’s see what we can do about that.”

Turns out, I do respond rather well to physical punishment. I have no problem submitting to him now, and I find my attitude is quite improved.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rai is asked for a parley by Razel, Verg’s devil ally. Konoe isn’t very fond of him, and the discussion doesn’t go as well for him as he hopes.
> 
> Trigger warning: Intimidation and non-con spanking.

So this is Verg’s ally.

He’s absolutely terrifying, and I find myself relieved that I never encountered him while I was at the Lord of Ransen’s estate.

“Listen to me, hunter, I think we can work this out between us, in a parley instead of a fight. Your reputation precedes you, and I’d like to avoid a direct confrontation with you if possible. Why not join me for a drink or two instead, and we can discuss this in a civilized fashion? Why not bring your lovely companion as well?” His voice is low, and has a deep rumbling quality, purring like a cat’s, but he is definitely not a cat.

The demon standing before us in the reception area of Bardo’s inn is tall—nearly as tall as Rai—with flame red hair, the top pulled back in a ponytail—thick and wavy—and bright blue eyes the color of the sky. He has large black horns, shaped like those of a buck, curving out of his head where his ears ought to be. His ears are slightly pointed protrusions of flesh on either side of his head. His tail is just like Verg’s, black and hairless, and it reminds me of a whip. He is dressed in ancient-style garb, which, while it’s a little out of place in our society, seems to suit his personality and voice quite well. He wears a short black cape with bell-sleeves, fastened in the front with silver loops. His long black and red skirt is held up with a red obi and decorative silver tassels. He looks like royalty—the ruler of the underworld—much more regal than Verg, in fact, and _much_ more intimidating.

Seeing him raises the hair on the back of my neck—and I don’t know if it’s because I remember what Verg did to me the last time I saw him, or if because Razel _frightens_ me even more, with his low voice and his even tone. He maintains his calm as my master does, which frightens me even more—he must be wise. What if he is my master’s equal? Again, though, there’s something about him that draws my eye, and I think that is what scares me the most. He gives me an easy smile every time I make eye contact.

He continues in that calm, even voice, and even while he is addressing my master, he appears to be keeping his eyes on me, while I have been trying to cower behind Rai, trying to keep out of view, as well as trying to keep myself from shaking and trembling in his presence.

“Is _this_ the kitten in question? Verg’s desired companion?”

“This is my companion,” Rai states, both possessively and casually draping an arm around me. “I’ll keep him with me while we sit down. Bardo, do you mind fetching us something to drink?”

“Coming right up,” Bardo says.

I reluctantly and obediently follow Rai into the dining area, feeling the eyes of the red demon crawling over my form. He even boldly reaches out to brush my ass suddenly—making me flick my tail and flinch away suddenly, making me bump against Rai suddenly, which catches his attention immediately.

“What is it?” Rai asks.

“N-nothing,” I stammer timidly.

“Please,” Rai motions for Razel to have a seat across from us at the table, while I take my place on the floor at Rai’s feet—I do this to get as far away from the demon as is polite, _not_ because I think I deserve to be at my master’s feet. “I don’t know what good talking will do. However, I will oblige your request if you have something to say.”

I don’t want to meet the demon’s eyes. He intimidates me, and he keeps watching me carefully, despite my obvious avoidance.

Razel chuckles slightly. “Your companion is quite sweet. I can see how he might have captured my fellow demon’s heart so easily.”

“Get to the point. What _exactly_ is it that Verg wants? What is it that _you_ want?”

“We have a proposition for you.”

“Which is?”

“Verg desires your companion. He realizes that you won him at auction, fair and square. However, he would like to offer a trade, beneficial to both of you. He believes your companion is in dire need of further training. He found him quite rebellious during his stay at the Lord’s estate and would like to take it upon himself to see to this training."

The color drains from my face when I hear this proposition. I glance up at Rai, whose face hasn’t changed in the least. He appears to be listening carefully to Razel. However, I do remember him telling me before we left for this meeting that he might do something slightly out of character in front of this demon. I wonder what that might be. He said, for my own safety, act submissively in any case. I feel myself shivering in fear. What if he sends me away with this demon? I start to feel sick, and tears come to my eyes.

“He suggested two days of intense training per week, with the end goal of an excellent, _compliant_ companion. He would be _pliable_ , biddable, and gentle. This would also help free up your busy schedule as well, and we could work around your needs, of course.”

“And what would _he_ gain from his generosity?” Rai asks.

He isn’t seriously considering this, is he? I feel a cold sweat forming on my skin, and my stomach starts to hurt.

“He would have the benefit of spending quality time with your companion—Verg plans to see to his training _personally_. He finds himself smitten, quite frankly, absolutely charmed.” Razel looks at me, and I mistakenly make eye contact. He gives me a gentle smile, which I find terrifyingly attractive. As soon as it’s polite (or maybe sooner) I look away, down at my hands in a submissive stance. I can’t stop myself from shaking.

“Is the demon planning to use my companion as part of the Lord’s entertainment?” Rai’s voice cools a little here.

“Not if that isn’t your desire. Verg could keep him away from the general public if that is your preference.” I notice Razel’s voice stays cool and steady, unchanging. That's exactly like my master's: calculating, cool, and calm.

“I see. In that case, my companion would be ‘trained,’ and used only by Verg, for those two days per week. How long is Verg proposing the training would last?”

“In theory, Verg thinks in two-day per week sessions, you would have yourself an extremely compliant, biddable slave with the year. I’m sure you remember the state in which your companion was returned to you. He was more than eager to serve you, wasn’t he?”

“I suppose you could say that,” Rai says. “He appeared to be quite desperate, actually.”

“That is one of Verg’s powers. He would leave your companion to you in that state each and every time, after his sessions, if you like. And he is suggesting a minimum contract of three months. After that time, both parties might renegotiate terms. Perhaps increasing the stay to three days if he requires additional training, or decreasing the stay to once weekly if he is progressing well, depending on if you require more time for your bounty hunting business. That, of course, is no place for a companion, you realize.”

“I do appreciate your concern,” Rai answers. “However, I currently am happy with how compliant my slave is. In fact, I would _prefer_ to see to his training myself.”

“Verg mentioned to me that he thought you might be a little too soft on him,” Razel says, surprisingly direct. “He said you don’t have it in you to punish him when he needs it.”

“Ho? Is that right?” Rai asks. “Well, in that case, I’m pleased that he is concerned for the welfare of my companion and my own happiness, but I assure you both that isn’t a problem. It’s true I wanted to avoid physical punishment at first—to assure my young companion of his physical safety, making him feel he isn’t alone here, and that I am always here to protect him. But now that he is aware of that, physical discipline is on the table. Isn’t it, little one?”

I blush furiously, looking down at my feet. I answer submissively, “Yes, master.”

“Is that so?” Razel asks. “Would it surprise you to hear that I think you’re only telling me what I want to hear?”

“That may be, but that’s your problem,” Rai answers, nonchalant. “I chose this particular companion after a long time of searching. I chose him for several particular qualities; the first his youth. This gives me the opportunity to shape him into the kind of companion with whom I’d like to share my life. I realize there may be some work ahead of me, but for me, that work is quite pleasurable—especially considering my line of work. I’m sure you can understand.”

 _Gods_ , I think. _They aren’t going to get into it_ right now _, are they?_

I start shifting a little on my knees, my ass slightly uncomfortable. Even after a few hours, it’s still surprisingly tender from the punishment earlier, and having him talk about it only serves to remind me of the spanking he gave me upstairs. I didn’t think he spanked me very hard, even. Thinking about it embarrasses me—and it _excites_ me, too—and my ears fill with blood.

“Look,” Rai jerks his chin at my direction. I look up suddenly and realize both Razel and Rai are staring at me. “Shall I show you? Evidence?”

What is he talking about? He can’t mean...

“Little one, why don’t you show Razel what happens to disobedient companions? Show him the results of this morning's disobedience.”

I look at Rai in shock, and I can’t believe he would humiliate me in this way. My jaw drops.

Razel’s face lights up with glee and expectation—and he waits patiently.

“Ah—I see. Little one, this is _not_ a good time to defy me. If you don’t, well, I think you _know_ what will happen.”

What? Doesn’t he realize Razel is _provoking_ him?  And I’m the one who has to suffer the consequences!

“B-but—” I start. I feel his finger against my lips, softly silencing me.

“Are you resisting me? This would be a good time for obedience, little one. Don’t you remember the conversation we had this morning? About submission? I require complete and  _total submission_ from you.”

A sudden firm grip on my shoulders pulls me up off my place on the ground, and he hoists me up over his lap once again—only we are in the _dining room_ now, complete with an audience. My face and ears are completely red.

“N-no— _please_ —stop—n-not here—please!” I beg desperately. _Not_ in front of this demon! Not _here_!

Rai lifts up my robe, exposing my butt—but before he spanks me, he takes a moment to admire my nudity— _right_ in the middle of the dining room. I feel his hand caressing my ass, feeling out my sit spot and dipping in between my cheeks. I know it’s coming when I feel his other hand press down against my lower back, making me arch and present myself a little bit more—much to my shame. He then proceeds to give me four sharp swats on my ass—one on each cheek, alternating with my sit spot—and I cry out loudly with each one. My ass is still sore from the last spanking, so he doesn’t have to hit me very hard—and when he spanks me, he only slightly spreads out his fingers, as he did before—distributing the pain throughout my ass, turning it into a slightly pleasurable sensation, especially on my sit spot, turning my cries into an almost pleasurable sigh.

I can feel my butt is really warm, though—it must be as red as my ears—and I’m _completely_ humiliated, my ears lowered, my tail drooping sadly. I am crying real tears when he has finished, however, from the shame of it.

He sets me back down on the floor, gently, and kisses my nose.

“You did very well,” he whispers into my ear.

“He looks beautiful when he cries, doesn’t he?” Razel marvels, shifting in his seat, because of what looks to me like a change in his nether region, while taking another sip of sake.

“I most certainly think he does,” Rai agrees, “which is why I don’t want to leave his discipline to anyone else. I appreciate the offer, however. I have no quarrel with you or Verg. I purchased this companion fair and square after a long search for one that would match my tastes and needs. They are many others auctioned off weekly. Perhaps Verg can find another of his choosing there. But this one is mine. I don’t prefer to share his charms with anyone else.”

“I see,” Razel says.

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Thank you for being open to parley,” Razel states, rising from his seat. “I’ll convey your thoughts to my ally and see if we can’t bring this to a close as a result of our discussion here.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Rai says, also rising. I stay seated with my head and ears lowered.

Razel reaches down and strokes my ears, my tail lashes back and forth when he strokes me.

“Very soft, isn’t he? Are you sure you wouldn’t consider lending him out for an evening? Oh—his tail is hooked, too.”

“I’m _very_ certain,” Rai says. “Although if I change my mind, I’ll be sure to contact you. Good day to you.”

Razel offers a small smile. “Thank you.”

He turns on his heel and departs. I’m glad to see him leave, but at what cost? Looking around, I notice Bardo is in the room as well—did he see that, too? _Ugh_. Is this going to be a regular thing now? Did I bring this on myself?

Bardo walks up to Rai, his voice low, “Oy, you can’t be doing that in here when guests are around.”

“What? Why not? He’s my companion, and if he disobeys, he needs to be disciplined. Sometimes immediately. I don’t always have time to take him outside,” Rai states casually.

I look down, my ears hot.

“It’s just—well—I’m not sure you’re aware—this isn’t _that_ kind of establishment.”

“What kind of establishment?”

“Well, the kind of establishment like the Lord of Ransen’s estate.”

“What are you saying?” Rai asks sharply. “I’m not putting on a show! I’m disciplining my companion only when absolutely necessary!”

His raised voice is frightening me, and I’m a little afraid of him right now. I would like to disappear. In fact, I’m a little afraid I will be made an example of once again. I try not to move even an inch.

“Rai.” 

“What is it, old man?” 

Bardo pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “It’s just—well, you _both_ turn quite a few heads wherever you go. Perhaps you don’t realize it, but people watch you. And they _really_ watch the little one when he is with you.”

Both large cats look at me, as though this is _my_ fault. I really don’t want their attention, and I _don’t_ wish to be made an example of. I shift uncomfortably on my knees. My ass is sore! I can’t help it!

“Honestly,” Bardo says, “it’s probably because he’s got such a cute ass.”

“Don’t I know it!” Rai sighs. “It’s hard to keep from touching him all the time! And did you see how that red demon was staring at him? The _entire_ time? I just _had_ to do it, just because I could! I literally couldn't help myself.”

Rai’s hand comes down on my ears to stroke me and the other pulls me onto his lap, facing him. I feel his other hand stroking my ass, gently, almost in apology.

“Maybe it wasn’t fair to punish you in front of him, little one,” Rai whispers, “but I felt like I had to show you off. I’m sorry if I hurt you, or if I hurt your feelings. I tried to make it feel at least a little good, and you performed so well for me.”

His hands continue stroking me. 

"Again, we are _not_ this kind of establishment,” Bardo states, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Perhaps you should take him up to your room.”

We just came from there! 

“Actually, we should get some food in this little one's belly, I think,” Rai suggests, looking at me. “Don't you think he's awfully small? Come, what will you have?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Razel returns to the Lord of Ransen's estate to give Verg an update, and they formulate a new plan.

The devils are lounging around at the Lord of Ransen’s estate—well, Razel is lounging, relaxed on a chaise, sipping an after-dinner drink, and Verg is pacing back and forth, irritated.

“Of course he’d say no,” Verg barks. “I can’t believe you’d even _ask_ him for a parley. That’s the _dumbest_ thing I’ve ever heard. Aren’t you the fucking devil of _wrath_? Don't you know how fights work? What the hell, Razel?”

“It’s called reconnaissance, Verg. Calm yourself,” Razel says, his voice calm and even. “That bounty hunter has a reputation even among the devils. After meeting with him, I’m pretty sure he is the one the devil of joy has had a target on for years. I had to see for myself to be sure. You know—that’s the cat that took Froud’s eyes.”

“What? _That_ is Shironekochan?” Verg stops in his tracks. “Wait a minute. You’re saying the companion I want, Chibi, happens to belong to Shironekochan?”

“Indeed,” Razel replies.

“This is a bigger problem than I anticipated,” Verg sounds slightly worried, rubbing his temple, his tail whipping around agitatedly.

“That’s why I wanted to get a good look at him myself. It looks like he’s only gained in size and strength since his fight with Froud. Also, there’s something very odd about that kitten you have your eyes on, as well.”

“Oh, there _is_ ,” Verg says. “You should see him in the sack, Razel! If we can get our hands on him, I promise—you won’t be disapp—”

“You fool! That isn’t what I meant,” Razel snaps. “You’ve been spending too much time around these cats, your mind clouded with sex to notice details like this. But I think—I can _feel_ —there’s something magical within that kitten. It’s just about to bloom. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I’m sure I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“Huh,” Verg murmurs.

“I’m considering getting the devil of joy involved,” Razel suggests.

“What? Bondage guy? Froud?” Verg sounds horrified. “Are you serious? No! He’s such a creep!”

“He may be, but hasn’t he been wanting to get his hands on the white cat for years? This would be a perfect opportunity for him, wouldn’t it? He could get his revenge, and we’d have three devils on our side.”

“Well, there’s that,” but Verg doesn’t sound convinced.

“I know—his help may come at a cost, I suppose,” Razel reasons. “But I think if we tell him he can _have_ the white cat, do whatever he likes with him, that will be payment enough. Hell, the fact we have found the white cat for him might be enough to get him here.”

“Do you even know where Froud is these days? He hasn’t been around much,” Verg says. “And I really don’t care for his company.”

“It’s been some years, but we had a combined customer not too many years ago,” Razel says, stifling a yawn. “I can use my shadow to search for him. Or perhaps—you might ask the Lord of Ransen to have one of his slaves make a contract with him.”

“Are you serious?” Verg says. “That’s insane! He’d devour any cat who made a contract with him in seconds. You and I, we are much better to our customers than he is.”

“Well, it would be the fastest way to get him here, after all, wouldn’t it?”

Razel is nothing if not efficient. Verg is secretly glad he called him as an ally—even if he too is now interested in the sexy caramel and white kitten with golden eyes—Verg is willing to share his find. He’d be willing to share him with Razel.

But magic? Is that kitten really magic? Thinking back on the evenings he spent with Chibi, perhaps there was something special about him…

“As long as you can promise he will keep his hands off of Chibineko, I’ll be fine with Froud’s involvement,” Verg agrees.

“You know I can’t promise _anything_ when it comes to Froud. He’s terribly unpredictable.” Razel gets to his feet and stretches. “I’ll send my shadow out to search for him. Now, isn’t there some sort of entertainment around here? I feel slightly jealous after watching the white cat show off his precious possession like that so obviously. It annoyed me. I’d like something to cheer me up for the night. What have you got around here that would do that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know--my poor neglected series. I went back and fixed the last chapter--so many typos--sorry! And this is such a short update. But I think I figured out where I want it to go. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Razel has left the inn, and Rai and Konoe have dinner. 
> 
> Rai gets a great idea and comes up with a little competition for his companion. I think he's helping him learn to build trust. Or else completely destroy it.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Non-con restraint and a blow-job in this chapter. Completely unrealistic, but right on for Sisa. But let's keep in mind, this is fucking fiction.

I do feel much better after eating. I wasn’t able to enjoy my breakfast—while I ate it, I ended up shoving the food into my mouth for the sake of hurrying along and pleasing my master. Dinner ends up being much more leisurely. Rai keeps me on the seat next to him, not permitting me to return to the floor, which is where I’d prefer to be. Sitting next to him like this, Rai often puts his hands on my thighs or strokes me gently during the meal. Perhaps he doesn’t mean anything by it—and it feels controlling, though I find it oddly soothing.

I cannot get the image of the terrifying red demon out of my head. I was almost certain that Rai was going to lend me out to him. In fact, part of me wonders if he still might. 

Occasionally, during the meal, I find myself sneaking a look at my owner’s face—which is currently calm and collected—as he eats. He is very dignified—I mean, the way he moves—everything he does is dignified. How was he not afraid of Razel?

Another tremor rushes through my body when I think of the possibility of being left alone for a night with that terrifying demon. Why was he even interested in me? I do not understand. 

The next time I sneak my eyes up to my master's face, his pale blue eye meets mine directly, surprising me. A small noise comes out of my mouth—I’ve been caught, and I look back down at my plate.

“What.” 

I say nothing and push the food around on my plate a little bit. 

“If you have something on your mind, speak.”

I still do not speak, continuing to create beautiful sculptures out of the food on my plate. Rai makes a slightly exasperated noise.

“Little one, you have been looking up at me and watching me since the beginning of dinner. I think you have something on your mind. Obviously, something is bothering you. Just spit it out.”

Blowing a sigh of resignation, I still do not look back at him. “That demon frightens me.”

After a short pause, Rai’s strong arm slips behind my shoulder and gives me a reassuring squeeze. “That is their nature, I am afraid. However, I am with you now, and he will not hurt you.”

“He looked like he wanted to eat me alive.”

“I noticed that as well,” Rai replies in an annoyed tone with an annoyed look on his face.

“I thought—” and then I stop. I don’t think I can confess my feelings at this point. Rai waits patiently for a moment, waiting for me to continue my thoughts of my own accord, without prompting.

“You thought what.”

“I thought you might take him up on his offer. It was surprisingly reasonable, quite convenient for you.” I lower my face deliberately now, concentrating on my food. I’ve made two neat piles on my plate from of the food I have not finished, with a compulsively perfect path between them. And most importantly, the peas do _not_ touch anything else on the plate. Because they would, of course, contaminate _anything_ they touch.

My jaw is roughly grabbed, surprising me again, and my body is wrenched to the side. Does he do this deliberately, or does he not know his own strength? I narrowly miss my plate as I slam my hand down on the table to catch myself. Is he angry? 

His gaze is cool, level, and even. He doesn’t speak at first—and that pale blue eye searches my face. I’m sure he can see my fear and confusion—but he also looks at my mouth—is he looking at my lips? My nose? Then I watch as his mouth form the following words:

“You thought I would just give you to the devils so easily?”

I don’t know what to say.

“Um,” I stammer. “N-not easily. B-but you would o-obviously get s-something in return, wouldn’t you? And s-save yourself a fight?”

“And what do you think I would get out of it?”

“A m-more c-compliant c-companion?” I ask softly, unwilling to commit myself to my answer.

“Are you telling me that you are more willing to obey those two devils than you are to obey me, your true master?”

“N-no, o-of course n-” I try to respond, but I am interrupted.

“You _do_ realize how much I paid for you, don’t you?”

“N-not exactl-” again, I am interrupted.

“More money than you have probably ever seen in your life. Why do you think I would let the pleasure of training my companion fall to someone else?”

“Pleasure?” Oh, shit. I said the word out loud.

“Yes, _pleasure_. I rather enjoy spending time with you.” He opens his palm on my back rather possessively, but it feels rather nice to have him stroke me like this. Warm, comforting. “It doesn’t matter if you’re just sitting next to me, if we are sharing a meal, or if we are in the bedroom.”

I feel my ears heating up when he mentions the bedroom. He can’t be talking about that here! I’d like to drop my face, but he doesn’t release my chin.

“Or, when you’re in the need of discipline. I enjoy that, too.”

His voice softens, and he touches my nose with his lips. Tender. That is not what I expect—especially not when he speaks of discipline.

“I was offended when that red devil suggested you were less than compliant. I find you suit my tastes perfectly. I don’t mind if you disobey me sometimes—I enjoy these games.”

Games? He thinks this is a _game_? My ass does not indicate that this is a game! It irritates me, and I am afraid I feel a small growl in my throat.

“Ho? Did you not care for that? Or is this that wonderful resistance making an appearance again? I’d _love_ to address it, once we are done here.”

 _Address_ it? I find my mouth is suddenly filled with extra saliva again—and I’m irritated even more, and my growl deepens.

“Eventually, Konoe, you will learn to trust me, rely on me for all your needs. It looks like you’re finished here. Let’s take this upstairs before the old man bawls me out again.”

Rai sweeps me from my place, carrying me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and I can’t help blushing furiously as other patrons shift uncomfortably in their chairs.

He takes two steps at a time on the way up the stairs and throws the door open—he seems quite eager. He sets me down on the bed and plops next to me, taking off his boots.

“Don’t move,” he commands.

“I wasn’t going to,” I say, rather grumpily.

At my reply, he casts a look at me—and the look—it’s surprisingly _heated_. I’m embarrassed, so I stare out the open window instead.

“I didn’t care for how that devil was looking at you, Konoe.”

While he already indicated he didn’t like it, these words sound almost hoarse, and I jerk my head in his direction.

“I think there is an innocence or purity of heart that attracts them to you, but I won’t be sharing that with anyone. And _listen._ ”

I’m sitting up on the bed, hugging my knees to my chest. When I look away from the window, Rai makes direct eye contact with me and slowly—very slowly—pulls his shirt off over his head, revealing his broad, muscular chest—pale skin, smooth, a few scars from prior battles—and I can’t help myself. He is _beautiful_. I reach out to him, as his silver hair continues to settle around his body.

“Listen, as my companion, I will care for you. You will rely on me—for _everything_. When you are ready, give me as much of your heart as you desire. But you can trust me, Konoe. I have your best interests at heart.”

My brain clicks—an audible noise in my ears—and another part of my brain kicks into gear and my hands freeze. _Whose best interest, exactly?_ What the hell is he talking about? I remember less than two hours ago, he pulled me across his lap—in the dining room—when he spanked me in front of all those strangers—and that was _not_ for my benefit. That was for _his_ benefit.

I feel my jaw set heavily, my molars grinding against each other, and that growl starts in the back of my throat. 

He smiles—he is fucking _smiling_ —at my response! It’s a gorgeous, irresistible smile, and it makes my dick go hard, but damn if I’m going to let him see me like this! I bare my fangs and draw my claws and growl again.

“Ho… did I touch a sore spot?”

“ _My_ best interest?” I growl lowly.

“ _Your_ best interest. It is to learn to trust me—for all your needs. Physical, emotional, _sexual_. The sooner you learn this, little one, the happier you will be. It’s the nature of our relationship, you see.”

“The _nature_ of our relationship?” My growling voice increases.

“The nature of the relationship between a slave and his master,” Rai’s voice stays cool and level—with a touch of amusement. _Amusement_. I’m pissed.

I realize my body is shaking—with rage and anger. At this moment, I don’t really care how attractive this silver cat is. I do not like that he considers me his property. I am a _cat_ , and I will not give myself over so easily.

“This is amusing to you?” I ask, unable to restrain my growling.

“It’s just we’ve already been over this. I wonder—how many times will it take you to _learn_? And what will I have to do to you _today_ to... _teach_ you?” Something other than amusement creeps into Rai’s voice—is it anticipation? Anger? Frustration? I don’t think so. I think it’s _desire_.

I flinch—my entire body jerking wildly—when I feel his hand stroking my ears with a gentle touch.

“Don’t you touch me!” I crawl away on the bed. “You— _exposed_ me to that red demon this afternoon, deliberately!”

“You don’t get to refuse,” Rai’s voice is soft and gentle, undeterred. And it frightens me a little. “You performed beautifully for me, Konoe. I was very proud of you.”  
  
My ears twitch at the sound of my name, spoken like that in his voice—and it sinks into my ears, even further into my hips. I _love_ it when he praises me—I really do! I turn my body away from him, trying to hide my own desire. And it irritates me even more! I’m angry—why would he _use_ me like that?

“Come, relax,” Rai murmurs, moving closer.

“Don’t _touch_ me!” I shout, and Rai just smiles. He “expects” my resistance—is this what he is thinking now? He expects me to resist?

“Come, I have an idea, just hush for a moment.” Exuding his usual confidence.

“Get off!” I shout again, as I feel the obi from my robe being pulled from my body quite suddenly.

“Oh, but I need this for our little game,” Rai insists. It irritates me that he is ignoring my claws and fangs, growls and hisses. If anything, he is simply getting more aroused by them. I glare at his face, and he is suddenly _right_ before me and controls my chin easily. I try to snap at his lips—but he actually _licks_ my fangs.

“You look so adorable when your fur is all bristled like this,” Rai says huskily. “You don’t know what you do to me when you get like this. I just get all hot and bothered.”

That’s just wrong! He gets _excited_ by my anger? That’s fucked up!

“You’re—that’s—that’s just wrong,” I protest. “You think this is funny? You’re just fucked up—”

He kisses my mouth again, and I press my lips together, making sure that tongue cannot get inside my mouth.

“You should flatten your fur, then, put your fangs away, stop this growling. It’s _irresistible_ to me. I can’t stop thinking about this morning—when I took you over my knee for doing the _exact_ same thing.”

I look up in surprise, and he _means_ it. Gods, he is fucked up! I find my hand reflexively covering my butt—just in case.

“So—the game—I will make an agreement with you. I have a theory. I can see you are angry—but I don’t think anger is the _only_ thing you are feeling right now. I think you may be overwhelmed with desire, and this is leading to confusion. I think you would feel so much better if you would just submit your heart to desire.”  
  
What is he talking about? Did he notice? I start to get a little uncomfortable.

“So, _if_ you can resist the next twenty minutes of my advances—and I will be so _, so_ gentle with you—then you can have the evening to yourself. If, however, I am correct in my assessment, and you are, in fact, feeling amorous, and you give in to these feelings, then—whatever I say goes, and you will comply without resistance for the rest of the night _and_ tomorrow.”  
  
He’s offering me a night off? I’m so angry right now, I know I can do this.

“Okay, you got it. I need a night off from your shit!”

I hear a low, rumbling laugh.

“We’re starting now,” and there’s a bright flash of silver in the dusky evening glow of the room—his hair, I think—I always forget how fast he can move.

He is on top of me for a moment—and I can hardly breathe—and then—he isn’t. Now, he’s kneeling, bare-chested, on top of my knees.

However, my position has changed. I can’t move my hands. Somehow—in that flash of movement, he has taken the sash from my robe and used it to restrain my hands, tying both my wrists to the headboard. He’s sitting on top of me, using his heavy body to pin down my legs, and then—he slowly—very slowly—opens my robe, keeping his eyes on my face.

My body is covered with goosebumps, and a shudder goes from the tip of my ears into my tail when I watch him, watching me. My toes curl down, grabbing onto the mattress, trying to get some traction, something—anything—to keep me connected to the earth.

I watch as the silver cat lowers his mouth to my face—planting small, soft, gentle kisses to my eyelids, my nose, my cheeks, my lips, then my chin and my jaw. He moves down my neck, and his claws extend—but he doesn’t scratch me. He only brushes his claws against the skin of my throat. I can feel his breath on my skin, too. It's  _hot._

Despite my anger—despite my fury—I immediately lift my chin and offer him my throat—an admission of defeat, of submission—and I feel tears burning my eyes. I feel like my body has betrayed itself. I have excess saliva in my mouth, but I don’t dare swallow with those long claws brushing me like this.

“See—now, why couldn’t you behave like this downstairs?”

And while a flash of anger surges through me at that comment—he sees the emotion flashing in my eyes—I maintain my submissive position with my jaw clenched. Seeing the tension in my jaw, Rai grabs it, angling it aggressively toward his mouth, and he lowers his face to mine—and at the same time, I feel his hand traveling down my stomach, opening itself up flat—pressing against my groin.

He pulls a moan from my mouth when he touches me there—and I can feel his claws caressing my dick gently—terrifyingly—combing through the soft fur below my navel, and I am lewdly trying to lift my hips off the bed.

“Are you still angry? See—you don’t _feel_ angry to me...” I feel him smiling against my lips, just before he slips his mouth a little lower down my body.

That rough, wet tongue slips down my body—and I fight my restraints—I don’t know if I want to push him off and pull his hair—that soft silver hair that is caressing me so gently—or if I want to pull him closer. Well, I know which I _want_ , I just am not going to admit it—not ever—and I feel a hand sneak up behind my hips to grasp the base of my tail.

Another shudder rushes through me when I feel Rai’s tongue combing through the fur below my belly—and the moans and cries coming out of my mouth—they sound almost tortured. He isn’t stroking my dick—only one hand massaging my tail, and the other gently caressing it with claws.

This is—this is…painful. This teasing is painful.

The tremors flow through my body one right after the next and I can't control them, nor can I control my gasping sighs. I try to bring my legs up in defense, and I can’t—his body weight is too heavy. He continues grooming me softly, bringing his mouth closer and closer to my shaft—and I’m getting louder and louder.

I will _not_ beg. I will _not_ beg. I will not—

Then, a soft kiss from those plush full lips is dropped on the tip of my dripping cock, which is straining painfully. 

“Please,” I breathe. I can’t help myself. “ _Please_ —” and I’m begging.

The touch to my tail gets a little more intense, and I push my hips back against the mattress. Tears are flowing from my eyes when soft kisses trail across my hips and are planted gently at the very tip of my dick once again.

I open my eyes—half-lidded—just in time to watch Rai’s tongue pop out of his mouth. He is lowering it onto the head of my cock—swirling it around, engulfing me—but so gently, so softly, and keeping his weight against my hips, so I cannot thrust upward or get any additional stimulation. He is meeting my eyes without blinking.

“Please! Rai! Please—don’t tease me—I can’t— _please_ ,” I am begging—pathetically, hopelessly begging.

I see the corners of his mouth curve up slightly in pleasure, and there is a fire behind that pale blue eye of his.

My eyes fly open at a rough, wet sensation—from the base of my shaft all the way to the tip—a long, grooming stroke—that sends a shudder through my body, sparks on the backs of my eyes, and tears another almost painful-sounding groan from my lips. 

“Please!”

“Konoe,” Rai stops for a moment, looking at my half-open, tear-stained eyes quite directly. “You know, it’s only been five minutes.”

“I submit,” I say, looking up at the ceiling and showing him my neck. “I submit, I _submit_! _Please_ —I can’t, I can’t—just _please_ —”

“You are such an impatient kitten,” Rai says, giving me another long grooming stroke from my shaft to the tip. “Do you think I am so cruel to work you up so much and not bring you to completion?”

Actually, yes, I do. Especially since I didn’t submit right away!

When he finally takes me into his mouth fully, I also feel the hand on my tail drop a little lower—there’s a gentle pressure right below, right at my entrance. I give a little hiss—I wasn’t exactly expecting it—but it isn’t unpleasant.

In fact—between being engulfed by the warm, wetness of Rai’s mouth and feeling a finger—and now maybe two—behind—I start to feel a slight lifting and falling sensation, and my breath starts to catch.

“Ahh—wait—ahh—please,” I beg some more. I wasn’t going to beg at all—and now, I’m in tears, begging and pleading for all I’m worth. “Rai— _please_!”

I feel a hum and a purr from the cat above me—a wonderful vibration. He is sucking me almost violently, now—and stroking me from inside as well—his fingers having discovered that spot inside that makes me go crazy—I am unable to catch my breath.

“Uh—soon—Rai—Rai—please!” I’m unable to hold on for very long—and I release right into his mouth, making so much embarrassing noise that I want to cover my own ears. I can feel myself blushing from it. The pleasurable sensations spread through my body, and relaxation comes over me in waves.

I feel like I have let go of something—perhaps that I have lost something of myself, even. Maybe it was worth the price? I don’t know. 

I don’t even notice when Rai unbinds my wrists and folds me into his arms. His face—he looks like the proverbial cat who got the cream—which he quite literally is—and he also looks terribly smug. I just hope he doesn’t say anything...

“So much more _compliant_ now,” Rai strokes my relaxed body gently, as he’s grooming my ears. “And now, you’ll do whatever I want, right?”

“Mmm.” I don't even have the energy to be grumpy.

The anger I felt earlier has dissipated, and my chest hurts. I can’t figure out if I hate my master or love him. But that—that sure felt damn good. I’m very grateful that he lets me sleep for now.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OMFG an update to this series. :)
> 
> Trigger warnings: Froud makes an appearance in the lobby, so non-con groping and touching. And Konoe has lost his bet so there are some consent issues, but no sex.

I’m woken a short while later, and my master is nothing if not smug. I can’t describe him any other way. But I didn’t win his little game, so I have to play along. What was it I agreed to again?

**“Whatever I say goes, and you will be submissive and comply without resistance for the rest of the night and tomorrow.”**

Ugh, I can’t believe I fell for it! I’ll never fall for something like this again. He wakes me up by grooming—as usual—and I don’t mean grooming my ears, either.

I start to resist, and I feel him smiling.

“Did you forget already, little one?” I hear his voice coming from a place it does _not_ belong. “You said you would comply, so this is the perfect chance for you to relax and practice submission to your master.”

My _master_? I have no master, I think bitterly, as I feel shivers running through my body as he is grooming my backside and thighs, as languidly as he desires. He does my brand as well, and my ears, and then he snuggles up behind me, wrapping his arms around me.

I try not to growl and succeed. I wonder—if I _don’t_ hiss and growl, will he even get aroused and excited?

“So, if I spend the next two days  _without_ hissing or growling at you, do you really think you’ll find me attractive?” I mumble quietly. “I mean, don’t you _like_ it when I resist you?”

“Oh, I’m glad you’re worried for your _master_ ,” Rai answers, turning me around in his arms. He looks right into my face when he says the next words. “You don’t need to be so concerned for me, though. If it becomes a problem, I’m sure I can do something to _make_ you growl and hiss.”

A small sound of surprise drops from my lips, and he just smiles. He is a really attractive cat, especially when he smiles. And I notice he doesn’t smile very often. When he does, it’s almost always for me. In fact, I realize he’s especially hostile toward Bardo.

“How do you know the innkeeper here? Why isn’t he afraid of you?” I blurt it out suddenly.

Rai looks somewhat surprised at my question, slightly taken aback. “We are from the same village. He was friends with my parents, who were killed when I was a child. He took me in for some time after they died. He taught me to use a sword.”  
  
“He’s like a father to you?” I ask, amazed. So why does he act so cold to him now? Why do they bicker at each other now? I don’t understand.

“We had a falling out, I suppose.” Rai does not seem forthcoming. He doesn’t seem eager to discuss it, which makes me even more curious.

“A falling out?” My ears perk up anxiously. “Why? What happened?”

“It’s not important,” Rai says, leaning down and licking my ears. “Gods, your ears are terribly expressive.”

“I think you’re trying to distract me.”

“I think you’re being less than submissive,” he purrs.

I hum slightly, a little embarrassed that I’m enjoying his touch so much.

There’s a brief knock on the door that makes me jump. I’m naked, so I look around nervously, my ears flattening. Rai makes a "tsk" sound with his tongue. 

“What is it,” he barks.

“You have a guest,” returns Bardo’s voice. 

“Now? This time of night?” Rai asks, standing up.

“Yep, waiting in the lobby.”  
  
“I’ll be right there. Gimme a minute.” Rai starts throwing on his clothes, and he nods to me. “Get dressed. Or don’t. But you’re coming with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

I blush and scramble out of bed and slip into my robe, looking around for the obi. It’s been used even more than me over the past few days. I watch as Rai straps both his sword and his dagger to his back, and I wait patiently for him to put on his boots after stepping into my sandals.

I follow him down the hallway down the stairs.

As we come down the stairs, I see a strange person in the lobby. He is kind of floating there—he almost seems to hover, in fact, rather than stand. He has lime green hair and is wearing all black—from head to toe—and has a wiry black tail that flicks behind him impatiently. He also had two sets of horns—one looks suspiciously like a pair of antennae on his head. 

 _Weird_. There’s no other way to put it. He looks very weird. 

I dislike him immediately. I know he is a demon from looking at him. He is wearing a black mask over his eyes, so I can’t really see what he is looking at—but his gaze immediately falls on Rai, whose tail fluffs out slightly and bristles at the base. 

I haven’t seen Rai bothered like this before, but he doesn’t slow his steps, so I follow him. However, he reaches a hand behind him, and I grab hold of it.

For once, I do not resist. I just accept his support. This demon frightens me, even though he is much smaller than Razel. There is something really evil about his aura.

“Good evening,” his voice rings out, cheerful and soft, but it sends chills down my spine. Then he turns toward me, aiming his non-existent gaze in my direction. My fur fluffs up as well, strengthening my instant dislike for him. “And good evening to you, Nekochan,” he adds politely, his voice almost a purr. “Is there a place we might chat for a while?”

“What do you want?” Rai’s tone is approaching a growl.

“Take it out of the lobby,” Bardo makes an appearance from around the reception desk. I remember his room is on that side. “The dining room is through those doors.” 

“After you,” the devil gestures with his arm dramatically. He brushes my ears and strokes my tail as I walk past. I bristle even more and bare fangs, glaring over my shoulder, a small growl rumbling in my chest as Rai pulls me behind him. I don’t mean to drag my feet, but Rai yanks my arm when I delay. I’m sure he thinks I’m resisting him. But I’m not. It’s just that the touch of this devil freaks me out. Even through his glove, it’s ice cold—like death. It _really_ bothers me, sending shudders through my body.

I hear Rai clicking his tongue again—and this time, it’s directed at me. It’s an incredibly annoying sound. But I couldn’t help it! I _wasn’t_ growling at him or resisting him as my master. It was the devil that was bothering me—and who _wouldn’t_ be bothered by that?

“Oya, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble, Nekochan.” The green-haired devil smiles sweetly at me, putting his hand on his chest. “Your fur just looks so soft and sweet when you’re all fluffy like that—I found it too hard to resist. I see why you’ve caused such a stir among my colleagues! They _all_ want a piece of you.”

A _piece_ of me? Revulsion shudders through me once again. Rai shoots him a dark look and pulls me closer to him on the bench, once he takes a seat. It seems I’ve been forgiven, and I'm thankful to be sitting so close to his warm body, so different from that slender, cold devil.

“Who are you? State your business. It’s past our usual hours for conducting business, if you don’t mind,” Rai growls.

“Of course. I am called Froud, the devil of joy,” the devil takes another bow. “You, Shironekochan, must be Rai, and, you, little darling, must be Konoe.”

I hate hearing my name from his mouth, but even more, when he says my master’s name, it sends a shiver down my spine.

Rai doesn’t say anything, only holding his gaze during a small pause.

“Razel and Verg are my colleagues, and they have asked me to step in on this matter of your beautiful young companion. I couldn’t resist after hearing about his charms. Verg takes what he wants, for the most part, and no one resists. Yet, here you are, resisting. I am fascinated. And so I was summoned.”

“You were actually  _summoned_?” The pitch of Rai’s voice drops. “Who summoned you?”

“I don’t believe _that_ concerns you, Shironekochan,” his tone still polite, “Needless to say, I’m here, and I have a job to do. I heard Verg’s offer and I think it's more than reasonable. Won’t you consider it a little more carefully? You have _nothing_  at all to lose. You might even try it on a temporary basis for a single evening, in fact. From what I can tell, your companion is less than docile. I mean—he bared his fangs and drew claws at me in the lobby.”

“I will not,” Rai states firmly, “as I have already stated. I acquired this companion fairly, and if Verg desires a companion of his own, he can visit the auction himself or borrow one from the Lord of Ransen, for all I care. He needs to keep his hands off mine. I don’t understand his fascination with mine—although I also find him very appealing—appealing enough to want to keep him by my side. As far as his docility goes—Konoe knows who his master is. He knows he is not to be touched by anyone except me unless I command him to obey. His behavior this evening was perfectly acceptable to me. I have no use for a docile companion. They do not interest me. If they did, I would have chosen another companion.”

I'm a little surprised at his words, but I dare to raise my face now, though I don't look at Froud.

“Has it not occurred to you that three devils might be able to take him from you by force, and permanently?” Froud asks, still polite. “It might be in your best interest— _and_ in his—to at least consider giving Verg’s offer a little thought before turning him down flat.”

 _By force?_ What is he talking about? I feel like a bucket of ice water has been dumped on me, and Rai's arm stiffens just slightly in response to my fear.

Bardo steps up to the table with a tray holding sake and several cups—three cups—he’s included one for me, thank the gods—and he pours them.

“Sir, I realize you may be new to the world of Sisa, but it’s unseemly to enter into someone’s place of residence, even if it’s a temporary residence, and threaten them.”

“Oh, but this is no threat,” Froud states plainly. “I’m simply stating the facts. Even you, the great bounty hunter of demons, known far and wide in your world and feared in mine, can only do so much against three of us.”

“He might not be _alone_ ,” Bardo says quietly by firmly, setting the cups down in front of us. Rai lifts an eyebrow in his direction but keeps his eyes on the devil. Froud looks at the striped tiger, and I gawk plainly at Bardo. While he’s dressed in his innkeeper’s garb, and I realize he is _not_ just a regular innkeeper. Indeed, he _is_ like a father to my master, and he was his teacher. His fur bristles, standing on end on his ears and his tail, and he isn’t a small cat. His fangs are showing as well, and the tips of his claws are showing just slightly as well.

I am a little intimidated, and I look up at Rai for a moment, who doesn’t even bat an eye, still glaring at Froud. I do not meet the devil’s eye, and instead, I take a gulp from the drink in front of me. It’s alcoholic, sweet, a little bubbly, and tasty. I've never thought I needed alcohol until today.

“I will consider the offer,” Rai says suddenly.

 _What? What is he saying?_ I flinch—the _last_ thing I want is to be turned over to three devils for even a _single_ evening. Hell does not begin to describe what that evening would be like! But I feel Rai’s hand under the table, squeezing my leg under the table reassuringly.

“How much time will you give me to consider?”

“Ah, good! Excellent! I’m glad I was able to persuade you,” Froud says, and he moves his body in a strange and wiggly way. “I—or one of us—will be back in two days for your answer. Will that be enough time?”

“I should have liked a little more time to consider,” Rai explains. “You see, I just returned from a trip, being apart from my companion, and we are still getting to know each other. It would be better if I had at least _three_ days to see if my own training methods are as effective as I believe them to be.” 

“I think I can persuade them to give you an extra day,” Froud rests his hand on his chin, sipping his sake. “Consider also, you won’t have to commit to anything, either—at least not up front. You could give him to us—I mean, to _Verg_ —for a single training session of 24 to 48 hours, and see if you are satisfied with the results.”

My body is starting to sweat. I swallow nervously, looking down at my cup, and then swallow the rest of its contents in a single shot. Bardo refills it for me.

“You don’t need to be nervous, little one. Nobody wants to _hurt_ you. You have enchanted several devils—that is all. You are an existence that hasn’t been seen in a long time—not since the world almost ended years ago. You should be _flattered_. I wonder if you are from the same line of Sanga, which is why you feel so familiar and tempting.”

“Sanga?” The world slips out of my mouth unbidden. He must be mistaken. I’m not a Sanga! But the silver cat beside me twitches slightly when he says it. Is there something Rai hasn’t told me? 

Froud’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oya, oya, perhaps your master hasn’t told you, but your voice seems to have quite a magical timbre. We devils pick it up in a heartbeat—it’s what makes you irresistible, Nekochan.”

His hand—that cold, black, clawed, gloved hand—reaches across the table and grabs my chin, pointing my eyes directly at his face, right where his eyes should be, while I have been concentrating at the empty cup before me. Shivers of revulsion ripple through my shoulders at the touch, and I cry out in surprise.

“Don't touch me! Get your hands off me!”

“Oh—see—now that is _not_ a very submissive statement from a companion,” he clicks his tongue.

Rai stands up and wrenches the devil’s hand from me, throwing all his weight behind his movement, getting Froud to unhand me. Froud’s chair tips backward in the tussle, and he does indeed let go of me—and I fall back into my seat. But the devil doesn’t fall to the floor—he ends up floating in the air just above his chair.

“Ahh— _your_ moves—they are also surprisingly familiar. I think we will have some fun together, Shironekochan. But you’d better start by telling your companion the truth, even if he hasn’t sung for you yet. That magic is there, and I know you can feel it. The two of you—you _both_ know it. Your senses pick it up as easily as mine! Have a good evening, and one of us will return in three days for your answer.”

He was addressing Bardo and Rai just now. Froud sets his feet back on the floor and walks out, bowing with a little flourish in the doorway.

But… a Sanga? What was he talking about? That can’t be right.

Bardo exchanges a glance with Rai, but neither says anything. However, Bardo walks back into the kitchen, bringing another cup and some additional sake. Thank the gods.

“What do you plan to do? You don’t mean to take them all three on yourself.” 

“No,” Rai says evenly. “I thought I might gather some allies, even out the odds a bit.” He looks at Bardo, giving him a sideways glance. “Did you mean what you said, old man?”

“Of course. But wouldn’t it be better if you got this little guy to sing before then? Is that what you sensed about him in the first place?”

“I—” Rai hesitates. It's weird—I can’t remember seeing him hesitate before—or not very often, it seems. I’ve seen him upset, but this is more like he is uncertain. “I don’t know. I was _sure_ of it at the auction. But I decided he’d be mine even before then. And I wasn’t _sure_ until the auction. So I don’t really know. I think it was something else.”

They are both looking at me.

“I knew the minute he opened his mouth. That first time I saw him trying to escape—on the staircase.”

“You never told me he tried to escape,” Rai says. He looks at me squarely. I lower my ears.

“He’d had a terrible day. He’d been pierced and branded, for gods’ sake, and the gods only know what you’d done to him before _that_!” Rai makes a small huffing sound at Bardo’s insinuation. “Of course, he’d _think_ about it! But he didn’t give me a hard time at all. He was very obedient and very compliant once we got to know each other a little.” Bardo smiles at me. _Yeah, go ahead and smile at me after a betrayal like that._

“I’m not a Sanga,” I say quietly. “That’s got to be a mistake.”

“I think you are,” Bardo says, and at the same time, Rai says, “You are, and you just don’t know it yet.” 

I’m tired of others telling me _who_ I am, _whose_ I am,  _what_ I am, who I am _supposed_ to be, what to do, where I'm supposed to be. I’m just plain _tired_. I drink another cup of sake and I realize it’s not my second. It’s probably my third or fourth or possibly my fifth. Bardo keeps refilling it.

"What makes you so sure?” I ask.

“Your voice,” they answer simultaneously. 

“Whatever,” I think—and I realize with horror I’ve said it out loud. What a snotty thing to say! I stuff my hand over my mouth—a little late. It certainly was not a submissive thing to say—about as far from submissive and respectful as I can get. “Ah—I’m sorry—that sort of slipped out.”

Rai looks at me a little sharply and I immediately drop my gaze.  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to be submissive and compliant for the next day and a half and do things my way? Wasn’t _that_ our little bet?”

“Um, I’m sorry. I’m just tired,” I explain. “I apologize.”

“And do you think your apology is going to cut it? Don’t you think it’s your _attitude_ that’s the problem here?” Rai’s voice is calm but slightly louder than I’d like, and I realize it’s making my fur ruffle.

“Hey now,” Bardo intervenes. “That guy who was just here was really weird—it was stressful. Give the poor kid a break.”

“Don’t interfere in things that don’t concern you, old man,” Rai snaps. “The devils’ spiel is that my companion _isn’t_ well-trained, and now, he’s speaking to me rudely and out of turn less than two hours after he’s agreed to 100% compliance. _That_ is a major concern.” 

“But there’s no one here right now,” Bardo says.

“ _I_ am,” Rai says. “And you are, too.”

I slip out of my seat and get down on my knees—it’s a desperate tactic—and I bow at his feet humbly, getting myself as low as I can. Also, I want to remind him what it feels like to have me _below_ his waist—perhaps this will encourage him to take this _out_ of the dining room. I think that would help us both a whole lot at this point.

“Master,” I say in all sincerity. “I was _afraid_ , and I’m also sorry to say I drank too much. I _did_ agree to comply with all your wishes, and I've failed you. I _sincerely_ apologize for my shortcomings. If you wish to punish me, I deserve it. I am truly sorry.”

I really did drink too much, because I felt so afraid. But I don’t want him to punish me here— _not_ in front of Bardo—and not for this. I think he gets off on it, and I _know_ I get off on it—and I don’t want to do this here. It’s too embarrassing. I feel tears in my eyes, and so I figure I should take advantage of them. I lift my face up just a little—enough so I can tip my eyes up to my master and see what he is thinking, and also so he can see my tears of repentance sparkling on my dark lashes. 

He is looking down at me, resting his chin on his hand.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“I lost count after three cups,” I confess immediately.

“What?” Rai is shocked. “I see. And you just kept serving it?”

“He’s kinda cute when he’s buzzed, don’t you think? He gets all fluffy. I mean, look at his tail!” Bardo replies. “Plus, he’s obviously sorry—how can you be mad at him? I mean, look at him. He’s got tears in his eyes!” Bardo reaches out to stroke my ears kindly—and it gives me the willies—but only because it feels so nice and I feel like Bardo is kind of like Rai’s father.

“Damn it, you’re no help at all. We should call it a night and see if we can get a hold of the butler demon in the morning. Also—let’s see who else might be a good candidate for our team then—and tell me if you can figure out a way to make this kitten sing.”

I feel myself being scooped up off the floor—thank the gods—and being carried back upstairs to our room over Rai’s shoulder. That was a narrow escape—although I can feel his hand against my butt as he’s carrying me—and I’m just not going to think about that right now. 

But seriously—a Sanga? That can’t be right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary:
> 
> Konoe wakes up to Rai grooming him languidly and he has to submit to it because of the bet. Bardo interrupts them because they have a visitor. Froud, the devil of joy has come for a visit.
> 
> They meet him in the dining room. Froud says Rai should consider Verg's offer since three demons could probably easily overpower him and take his companion away from him for good, even if he is a bounty hunter. Rai says he will consider it, but give him three days to consider it and come back for his answer.
> 
> Of course, Konoe is terrified, but Rai wants the extra time to find allies. Also--Froud lets it spill that the demons (and Rai and Bardo) think that Konoe is a Sanga. The extra time might be enough to get him singing, but at least it will be enough to get Sebastian to help. Bardo has agreed to help as well.
> 
> Konoe drinks too much sake and is disrespectful, of course.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More sex--Rai asks Konoe to display remorse for his brattiness.
> 
> I should have posted this while fully awake. Please excuse embarrassing typos!

“So much for your promise of compliance,” Rai huffs, setting me down gently once we return to the bedroom. I’m standing before him, looking at my feet, my head still fuzzy from alcohol. I did have too much to drink, and I feel guilty for my behavior. _Guilty_!

“I said I was sorry,” I say, daring to look up at him once briefly, through my lashes, and he is not pleased. He is staring down at me rather harshly. Ugh—what have I done? 

“Saying you are sorry and demonstrating repentance are two different things, kitten.”

“Please,” I say, keeping my eyes low. “How can I make it up to you?” It's weird—I do want to make it up to him, and not because I want to get out of a punishment.

“You wish to make it up to me?” 

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” He hums softly. Perhaps he’s not as upset as I think he is. “Perhaps I can come up with something that would make it better. Do you think you would be willing to demonstrate your compliance?”

“Of course! Anything!” I burst out. “Just— _please_ —don’t be angry with me.”

“Then _soothe_ me.”

I stop for a moment, looking at my toes. My feet are bare—I hadn’t bothered with sandals earlier—and I concentrate on them for a moment, as though they might hold the answer to what I am looking for—how can I soothe him?

“How?” I ask quietly, keeping my eyes lowered. 

“Hmph. You can’t think of anything?” I heard a slight huff and he flounces down on the bed. “Perhaps you might do something to demonstrate your willingness to soothe me by serving me in some way.”

Serving him? In an instant, my mouth fills with saliva, which I fight to swallow down quickly. It’s embarrassing to have this sort of reaction—he purchased me! Why would I want to “serve” anyone who _purchased_ me? As a companion—as a _sex_ companion? But my body certainly is excited. 

Then, my logical brain kicks in, reminding me of the deal I lost last night. If I don’t follow through, he won’t make another deal like that with me ever again—and I may never get a night of reprieve, even when I really need it or want it. So I’d better do what I said I would do. 

Slowly I approach the bed, where he is sitting, and I start removing his boots. They are thigh-high boots, and it’s rather sexy to remove them. I freely touch his legs when I peel off the leather—though his snug leather pants are tucked underneath his boots.

Every now and then, I glance up to his face, and I find he is watching me very closely, almost without blinking or ever looking away. His gaze alone heats up my body! 

After his boots, I remove his sword and dagger holsters—held in place by two buckles slung low about his hips. I take them off gingerly as if they were precious—he treats them as precious, so I will, too, marveling at the weight of the longsword. I’ve rarely seen him wield it—but it’s so heavy! I can’t imagine the strength he has. The dagger weighs as much as the sword I used to carry, and I considered my blade a longsword, but I suppose compared to his, it wasn’t. 

He’s not wearing his cape, so next, I pull off his black gloves—they are soft leather and well worn. I wonder what they might feel like on my skin. As I pull them off, I kiss each of his fingers softly, sucking them into my mouth while watching his face. He has softened his earlier harsh expression—into something more curious, not quite a smile, but also not quite friendly.

Then I unlace his shirt and pull it off, letting his silver hair spill down his shoulders. He’s wearing a soft black knit silk undershirt underneath. I can’t help marveling at his chest when I take off his shirt, though—and his arms—and I touch him freely.

Before removing his undershirt, though, I move to his belt, looking up for permission. He doesn’t stop me. I feel terribly forward, and I’m blushing as I unbuckle his belt, unbutton his pants and encourage him to scoot back on the bed so I can slip them off his waist. 

He has great legs, a shapely waist, and a marvelous ass—and that wonderful white tail bristles gently. I pull my claws through his tail—remembering I did something to his tail once before.

Now, he is in his undershirt and underwear and he opens his mouth.

“Strip.”

I look up, and meet his gaze, ears slightly lowered and terribly embarrassed.

“Stand up and strip.” The command is repeated softly—and gently—almost in a whisper, not harsh or demanding, but I want to obey. I struggle to comply, my fingers trembling slightly. I’ve only ever done this once before—when he was punishing me. He had spanked me, pulling up my yukata but then had me stand before him, blushing and embarrassed. I was so excited I thought I might explode.

I’m feeling quite excited now, too, as I fumble with the obi, and I untie it. Then I slip out of my robe, standing naked before him—before my _master_ —before the silver cat who _owns_ me.

“Are you going to leave clothes all over the room like this?”

I did leave my obi and robe on the floor, so I bend down and pick both items up, fold them and put them on a chair, keeping my fluffy tail wrapped around my waist. I’m trembling when I gather up his clothes and fold them neatly and put them on the other chair.

“Good kitten.”

The warm sound of his praise floats into my ears and makes me feel amazing—and I realize there must be something wrong with me.

He _owns_ me. And the thought isn’t bothering me as it should. Instead, I’m finding myself wanting to touch him. No—wanting him to touch _me_.

I return to the bed and pull off his undershirt, fold it up neatly, add it to his pile of clothes, and then I climb up on his lap. I can feel his excitement—the knit silk boxers underneath my thighs feel so smooth and cool. And I shyly push my nose up against his chin, begging for a kiss.

I lick his throat, nipping gently. I also nip at his chin and kiss his nose—and he just watches me. He allows my kisses but does not return them. I wonder…

Continuing down his chest, I bite at his nipples—making him hiss softly and pushing him down against the bed. I move lower and lower down his torso—kissing his belly, grooming the silky white fur under his belly button. I slide a hand up the leg of his boxers, and another hand plays with the waistband, and I huff a hot breath gently against his erection. 

This earns me a nice, purring moan—just what I want to hear. I slowly work off his underwear, stroking his thighs and that fluffy tail—at the base and as far out as I can reach. His fur bristles and his tail is quite stiff—not at all relaxed. I drop a kiss on the tip of his erection, and that too earns me a quiet sigh—one that makes my own body respond.

I feel his hands in my hair, stroking my ears gently, but not pushing at me or trying to make me do anything. Taking my time, I give him a nice long lick—as though I am grooming him—and I can feel him push his hips against the bed and his knees bend, his feet sliding up on the mattress, with me in the middle of his legs. 

Settling in and using both hands and my mouth, I do my best to “serve” him orally. I start slowly, licking and grooming, using lots of saliva and more of my lips and tongue—until I finally sink as much of him as will fit into my mouth. I wrap my hands around his shaft for better control and also so I won’t choke. I’m enjoying the purring sighs coming from the cat beneath me—and I notice he likes it best when I use more tongue, especially on the head.

I purr and hum naturally as I do this—relaxing and finding myself dripping and painfully hard because I feel so powerful—that _I_ could get my silver owner riled up to such a state is amazing to me! Sweet sounds are dripping from the corners of my mouth—along with excess saliva that I can’t swallow as I move my head. I want to see if I can make him come—if he will let me take him to the limit.

However, I suddenly feel a shift beneath me. He has certainly plumped up in my mouth and gotten harder—but I hear his purr turn to a growl, which changes to a rather fearsome growl. I’m roughly pulled up, and he speaks again.

“I want to be inside you.”

Technically—he _is_ inside me—in my mouth. However, his words still make my fur bristle.

My body is pulled up from his waist until I am sitting on his lap. He sits up and looks me in the eye—that pale blue dark with passion.

“Kneel.”

Each time he speaks—each time he gives me an order like that—a little shiver goes down my spine. But I find I cannot disobey. I am watching his face as I obey—kneeling over his lap and he lines his cock up with my entrance.

 _Wait_ just a minute—I haven’t been prepared—isn’t this going to hurt?!

“Ah—w-wait—um, please,” I say, but he is guiding me closer to him, and starts pressing my hips down against him. 

“Submit,” he whispers into my ears. “Relax your body and give yourself to me. You are mine. _Show_ me that you are mine.” 

Another shudder goes through my body and I submit. I feel the head of his dick spreading me open—stretching me apart—and it’s not nearly as painful as I expect. 

That’s right—just before we met Froud—he did… prepare me a little. When he was making that deal with me. I’d forgotten. 

I do my best to submit my body to him. I stroke myself a few times to remind myself of the pleasure I will be feeling soon—and he stops my hands. I look up, wondering if he doesn’t want me to do this, but he takes over instead, pushing his thumb into the head of my dick while watching my expression. It makes me melt—and it also helps me lower myself a little more on top of him.

“You feel so warm and soft inside, Konoe,” he whispers, nipping my ear—and soon, I am resting on the top of his thighs. I take a deep breath and I watch as his face changes slightly. He can feel it when I breathe.

He caresses my body tenderly—not like I’m some belonging, some object—but like I’m _someone_ precious. And I _feel_ precious. It feels _good_ to give myself to him. And he looks so amazing, slightly sweaty, his hair stuck to his chest and back—and he smells so good. He slowly rocks my hips back, and a shiver goes up my spine and into my tail. 

He brings me forward again and rocks me backward and then thrusts up—and I cry out when I feel that strange, almost cold, falling pleasure. But this time I am facing him—on his lap—and I cannot hide.

I feel terribly self-conscious at first—but he repeats the motion, and I help. The sounds coming out of my mouth sound vulgar.

“I-i’m s-sorry,” I whisper. “I-i s-sound o-obs-scene!” 

“You sound enchanting,” he murmurs and repeats the same motion again. This time I’m rocking my hips on my own, and he thrusts, and he also grabs the base of my tail, rubbing the fur backward.

The pleasure inside is so great and deep—it feels like an endless pool. And usually it’s dark and almost scary, but tonight it seems like there’s a pool of light inside me. When he continues fucking me—and I continue fucking him and relaxing in his arms, submitting my will and my body and even my voice—the pool gets brighter and clearer. Something inside me starts to vibrate and murmur—like my bones move—my chest feels like it might break open.

“Rai…” I try to warn him, starting to feel overcome with this strange new sensation, about to burst out of me.

“Kitten,” he whispers. “Give yourself to me. Just relax.”

“Rai—please—I can’t—ah—” 

A song bursts forth from my body—along with a bright light that surrounds me. It vibrates along my skin, sending tendrils of light from my body to Rai’s, lighting up our room brighter than a bonfire. It makes all my fur stand on end and it feels amazing!

A purring gasping sigh escapes my mouth at the same time—and I come hard and long—letting the music sweep me away. 

Rai looks surprised—no, shocked—at our surroundings, but he can’t help but be swept away by pleasure as well. I feel him release inside of me as I am collapsing around him. Pleasure shivers through my limbs and into my ears and tail, but the song still stays.

I end up in Rai’s arms, him still inside me with the song still softly flowing around us.

“A Sanga! I knew it—from the first time I heard you speak, I knew it,” he whispers into my ears, then licks me carefully. “Your song is beautiful, Konoe.”


End file.
